For lots of years now, I’ve spent every Christmas putting together an original short story to share…

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  2. I swear, guys…

    …I am hard at work in Siegel City.

    The Pyrite War-Page 19

  3. Details to come. But for now…


  4. 48,213 words in OPH II, and I’m just getting into “Act Three.” What this means, as far as my writing goes, is that I’ve got all the ducks in a row and all the game pieces where I want them to be, and now it’s time to hit that first domino and roll that first snowball down the mountain and mix the hell out of my metaphors, because stuff is about to hit the fan and it ain’t gonna stop until the story is over. Remember the part in OPH I when Josh found Deep Six’s frozen body? Remember how fast everything moved after that? This scene has absolutely nothing in common with that one, except that Josh is in it, and it has about the same significance to the end of the book.

    Want to read a little bit of that scene?

    “He wants to boost his own power,” Annie said.
    “He wants to give himself EVERY power,” Animan said.
    “He wants to become God,” Black Flame said.
    “Could you go over that one more time?” Morrie said.
    I just shook my head. “This is really, really bad.”
    Then it got worse.


  5. I’m tapping out of OPH II tonight at 46,086 words. Here’s a blurb for you fine folks.

    Tommy Gunn. My mental rolodex clicked onto an entry – he was a thief from the Baltimore area with the power to fire quick bursts of force from his hands. The “bullets” weren’t particularly strong – they wouldn’t kill a healthy person at a normal distance, but they’d sting like a hornet if you got hit. But Tommy could fire them at such a rapid speed that the onslaught of stings was enough to keep most unpowered opponents down, at least temporarily, while he pulled off his crime or his escape, depending on what stage of the operation he had reached.


  6. I was a little busy last week (you may have heard) and I’m sorry to say I didn’t get quite as much writing done as I’d hoped. But I just finished the night at 44,238 words for the month, and while I don’t have any chance of actually finishing the book before the end of November, I’m fairly certain I can hit my goal of 50,000 words in time.

    How about a quick blurb to celebrate?

    “I called this guy Laughing Owl,” Animan said. “It’s a species from New Zealand that went extinct back in the 1920s or 30s. Supposedly had this really freaky, messed-up cry that sounded like an insane clown giggling at you or something. I thought it would make for a good ‘dark’ hero, like Morrie was all into for a while after my bat-guy got popular, but I never really felt comfortable putting this one on. It just… creeped me out after a while.”


  7. Got a late start tonight, but I topped out at 38,061. OPH II continues.

    Your tease de jour.

    “Sorry isn’t good enough, not by half, boy. You allowed a dangerous criminal to gain the upper hand in battle. You allowed him to get away with a small fortune in jewels. You placed myself and every bystander in this area in mortal danger!” A bit of an exaggeration – I’d tried my hardest to make it clear Monarch had no real interest in hurting anybody, but it definitely sounded better than saying, “You’ve temporarily inconvenienced everybody within earshot!”


  8. Despite the swarm of bumblebees on the television, I got my writing done for the night. OPH II is at 35,948 words and counting. Here’s a taste:

    “Well, this time you’re going to have to do more than that,” I said. “It will do you some good. You’re going to really be stretching your muscles, proving what you’re capable of. You’re one of Siegel City’s Champions, Theodore. It’s time you joined our ranks and fought with the pride and honor that befits a man of your stature.”
    After the speech escaped my mouth, everybody looked at Animan, befuddled. He shrugged. “Sorry,” he said. “I gave Monarch sort of a Ward Cleaver kind of personality.”


  9. OTHER PEOPLE’S HEROES II is up to 34,067 words. Knocked out today’s work early because I’ve got to pick up my girl at the airport this afternoon, then off to Thibodaux tonight. Still got some work done, though, and I just love what I’m putting Josh and Company through at the moment. Here’s a peek.

    "If you get worried, if you get scared, if you want me to check in on you sooner than I’m scheduled to, Tweet the secret code.”
    “Secret code?”
    “I’ve analyzed your Twitter frequency and style of messages,” Particle said. “I think I’ve got something that would be sufficiently mundane not to arouse suspicion, and still fit into your usual style.” He handed over a scrap of notepaper upon which the secret code was written.
    “MONDAYS, AMIRITE?” he said.


  10. 32,038 words in and, Heaven help us all, Josh is trying to play detective. This can’t possibly end well.

    From tonight’s writing…

    Although he’d never worn a superhero costume or gone into battle, Morrie Abadie did have his own mentally-based super power, the ability to make people believe lies. It had come in handy for years, keeping the people of Siegel City from realizing anything was unusual about a world where no major landmarks were destroyed even if people who could kick like a thermonuclear blast went crazy, or where a fake beard and mustache were all it took to keep even your closest friends from realizing your face – in its superhero identity – was plastered on the front of every newspaper and the top of every blog feed. Morrie had no ability to change his shape or appearance. But when we told him what happened in the warehouse, he simultaneously turned shades of green, purple, and paisley.