The Great Writing Sprint of 2023

I really, really wanted to be a runner.

When I say "runner", I mean someone who can go decent distances without doubling over in exhaustion.

And when I say "wanted", I mean had a desire that never quite grew into its potential.

And when I say "really"...

You get the point. I'm not a runner.

Yet when the sun's rising over my Orlando neighborhood, and the sandhill cranes have emerged to scream their good-mornings and wanna-hear-the-most-annoying-sound-in-the-worlds, I climb out of bed, cue a podcast, and walk the short loop. If I'm feeling daring, I'll go for the long loop.

Over the last five years, my fingers have found the consistency that still evades my feet. I've spent hundreds of mornings typing in half-hour bursts, chipping away at a dozen novels. I even finished two of them. You can read about those elephants here:

What you won't learn from that article:

• I never drank coffee until I started writing.
• Starbucks at six in the morning is one of the most peaceful places to write.
• I've spent FAR too much money at Starbucks.
• [Starbucks, if you're looking for unfamous people to sponsor...I'm looking for a caffeine daddy to fund my scribal addiction.]

The marathon works for me. I pace myself as I chip away at empty pages, carving a story from the stone in my journey toward the finish line.

(If you're counting, kids, that's two metaphors in one.)

So if I'm comfortable with marathons...why am I going to sprint my guts out next week?

I work as a freelance musician. Between a consistent teaching gig and other, more fluid opportunities – songwriting, production, worship leading, performance – I find time to write. When your passion becomes your job, it's nice to take a break in favor of your other passion.

Next week is Spring Break.

My students will flee Orange County in droves, seeking refuge in the farthest reaches of the globe/country/state/theme parks.

My schedule will dry up faster than you can say Sahara.

And a golden opportunity, borne on the twin wings of providence and timing, will present itself to me.

This week, I started drafting a sequel. Book One in my YA fantasy series is in edits, and I've spent the last few weeks outlining Book Two.

Here's the opportunity:

I will write 10,000 words next week. An attainable goal, given the parched schedule I mentioned earlier.

But here's the catch:

For every new subscriber to my newsletter between now and Friday, March 17, I must add 250 words to my writing goal.

As I write this on Thursday, March 10, my newborn newsletter sits at 41 subscribers. If I gain ten subscribers over the next week, I have to write 2,500 extra words.

20 subscribers? 5,000 extra words.

50 subscribers?

I've entered dangerous territory. You know that moment in courtroom dramas when the lawyer, caught up in his own hubris, asks the witness a risky question and gets a surprising answer? He broke the cardinal rule of lawyering – never ask a question when you don't know the answer.

My question: how much do I have to write next week?

Your answer: [error, number not found]

Why you should sign up to torture me:

Reason 1: While I'm keeping most of the series details a secret, I can tell you this about the story:

A teenage street urchin receives a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity from a sword-wielding ghost. If she can steal a mystical Tablet from its vault in the Temple of the Soul, the ghost will use it to bring her parents back to life. If she fails, her little brother dies.

If you want to read about ghosts, heists, and guava-cardamom pastries, sign up. Book One is slated to release this fall.

Reason 2: Everyone who signs up over the next week gets a free ebook filled with sci-fi/fantasy short stories, including prize-winning challenge entries like this one:

You can upload the ebook to your Kindle, or your iPad, or virtually any screen you love to stare at.

Reason 3: You get to watch me suffer.

I'll update this graphic in my newsletter every morning next week. Not included: number of panic-induced meltdowns, milligrams of caffeine consumed, or occurrences of existential dread-face.

If this sounds like a good time...

You can sign up here:

Once the sprint is done, and once I've recuperated over the weekend, I'll post the results here on Vocal.

See you in the torture chamber writing room.