Wednesday, September 01, 2021

Under Illusion: Day 1

Word Count: 6,003

Summary of Events:
Dallis and her brothers went to a restaurant to have lunch with the son of a friend of their father's who'd asked to meet with them on a matter of business. The son brought with him an associate whom Dallis, for one, was immediately suspicious of, as she got the sense that he was hiding something. Additionally, since she and her brothers didn't actually know the son as well as they knew his father, they were somewhat wary of him, and so the meal passed in silence…

Excerpt of the Day:

It wasn’t until everyone had finished dining and the dishes had been cleared away that the blond man finally looked like he meant to say something as his gaze fixed with that of her oldest brother across from him.

“I have an offer for you,” he said, his voice sounding to be a bit more cagey and stern than when he’d ordered.

Her oldest brother raised his eyebrows and tilted his head down in a responding nod, but said nothing, his face conveying his expectation of more information.

“One point five million dollars,” the blond man said quietly. “If you will deliver sensitive cargo.”

Her oldest brother maintained his expectant expression.

“Sometime this week there will be an eighteen wheeler coming to town from the west,” the blond man said. “Black truck, black trailer. The company name is ESM Secure Transport Services. It’ll be headed for Charleston.”

Her oldest brother gave another single nod, still looking expectant.

“You’re to gain the confidence of the driver and tag along to Charleston,” the blond man said. “The cargo will be loaded there. You are to contact us once that is done and direct the driver according to our directions.”

“On one condition,” her oldest brother finally replied.

The grey-haired man looked indignant and angry, but the blond man looked only subtly surprised.

“Which is?” he asked.

“We receive thirty percent of the promised money upfront,” her oldest brother replied.

“No,” the blond man replied flatly. The grey-haired man nodded.

Her oldest brother sat up straight and looked the blond man in the eye. “Your father had rapport with mine, but you don’t have any with me. I don’t trust you to give me what you’ve promised unless you give me money up front.”

The grey-haired man had a disgruntled scowl on his face; the blond man looked slightly uncomfortable.

“You probably don’t trust me to do my job for the same reason,” her oldest brother added. “Even if I told you we’d do it right, which is a guarantee you wouldn’t likely be able to get from anyone else. I don’t blame you. At the same time, you knew my father as much as I know yours, and I’m sure we can both acknowledge that we resemble our fathers in many ways. As a result, you should know what you run the risk of having happen to you if you don’t pay me upfront.”

She saw the blond man’s throat shift, indicating that he’d swallowed out of discomfort with the thoughts that she knew had come to his mind — and she didn’t even know the details of Papa’s business transactions, she just knew he had a reputation for being a man few dared to cross, and those who did never dared again.

The grey-haired man, however, looked derisive, suggesting he knew nothing of Papa and his reputation, which she felt was rather interesting, considering that the blond man knew.

“You’re giving us thirty percent upfront in forty eight hours,” her oldest brother said. “Or what you just thought of is going to happen to you.”

Tuesday, August 31, 2021

September Novel Essential Information

Novel Title: Under Illusion

Time Setting: 2021

Genre: Thriller

Minimum Word Goal: 120,000

Timespan: September

Locations: Spokane, Washington; St. Louis, Missouri; Charleston, South Carolina; Dallas, Texas; Nogales, Arizona.

Main Characters: Trace O’Hannigan, Dallis Mihaljević

Background Information: 

Born in Central Alberta as the only son and third of four children to his parents, Trace spent the first eleven years of his life enjoying a semi-rural upbringing before his parents divorced.

As his father worked in the oil industry, which took him away for days, and even weeks, at a time, Trace and his sisters were put exclusively in their mother’s custody, especially when their mother met a reasonably wealthy American man and chose to move in with him, which necessitated their moving to the United States.

His mother soon married the man and applied for permanent residency in the United States for herself and her children, which kept Trace and his sisters from even returning to Canada to visit their grandparents — which Trace, particularly, wanted to do, as he’d been very close with his grandparents.

Before they’d been living in the United States for five years, external circumstances also conspired against Trace and his sisters returning to Canada for some time, as their stepfather lost his job in the Great Recession, and as he and their mother struggled to find jobs, thus they ate through much of his accumulated wealth, forcing them to move to a considerably less affluent neighbourhood than they’d previously lived in.

Having not really come from an exceptionally affluent background in Canada, Trace didn’t mind the shift, especially when he ended up befriending an elderly widower who lived on their street who reminded him of his grandpa not that long after he learned that his grandpa had suffered a fatal stroke.

Finances continued to be a concern for Trace’s family, which prompted Trace and his sisters to each seek jobs once they were in high school in order to ensure that they had money to spend on things that they wanted; the highest want on Trace’s list being a return trip to Canada.

He didn’t end up making his return to Canada until he was eighteen, however, by which time he’d enrolled in a trade school in Spokane to learn mechanics on the recommendation of his neighbour, thus he only went for a visit, where he met his stepmother and stepsisters and discovered that his father had succeeded in accumulating wealth by being able to work longer hours without children around.

Owing to a poor first impression between himself and his stepmother, Trace was glad he’d not sought to move to Canada and enrol in a trade school there, although he still sought to save up as much of the money he could spare outside of what he needed for his education toward the desired end of moving back to Canada, albeit in a home of his own instead of living with his father, as he’d thought he might before he’d met his stepmother.

In the end, however, Trace had a conflict with fellow students that prompted him to quit his mechanics course after completing his third year, and soon after his younger sister, who’d struggled to understand and accept her parents’ divorce, and subsequent remarriages, and also had mental health problems that concerned Trace deeply, ended up murdering her mother and stepfather before killing herself.

As a result, Trace found both stepfamily and biological family, as well as some friends, distancing themselves from him, except his neighbour, who actually took Trace in to live with him, and his best friend, both of whom knew Trace didn’t have his sister’s mental health problems, which were undoubtedly the motive for her actions.

Since even his family in Canada was disturbed by what his sister had done, and his finances had become tight, Trace didn’t go up for what had become his annual visit to Canada, but, instead, sought out a job in the United States, following the advice of his neighbour and getting his license to drive large delivery trucks, which got him a job in rather short order driving locally.

Although initially not bad, Trace quickly found that his employers were demanding more of his time, but not giving him much, if any, more money for what he was doing, which was also compromising his sleep.

As a result, he quit driving for them and sought another job in the same field. He found one that offered better wages and working conditions, and applied for it, which proved to be a substantially more rigorous process than applying for his first job had been with several interviews, background checks, and more.

Adding to the uncertainty, Trace has yet to be told by his employer what kind of cargo he’ll even be hauling across the United States, with the possibility of even making trips into Canada and Mexico, which does make him wonder what exactly he’s getting himself into.


Born the only daughter and youngest of three children to her father, whom she knew worked in some sort of illegal or nearly-illegal field, Dallis was, however, the first — and, as it would happen, only — child her mother ever gave birth to.

Owing to her father’s work, Dallis was actually born in Europe, as her father had been, and spent her first two years there — during which her mother miscarried what would’ve been a little brother for her — before the family settled in St. Louis to be near her father’s family.

Before they’d lived much more than a year in St. Louis Dallis’ mother — who was pregnant at the time — was shot to death and her father also nearly died while leaving a birthday party for one of Dallis’ brother’s friends. Dallis later learned from her brothers that the killers had been hired by her mother’s ex-boyfriend, who’d not appreciated that her mother had been wooed away from him by her father, and had been unable to kill her sooner because of the family’s residence in Europe.

Dallis’ father did manage to survive the attack and raised Dallis and her half-brothers with the help of the family whose son’s birthday party her family had been attending at the time of her mother’s death, as the father of that family had been a schoolmate and friend of her father.

Although all three of his children were precious to him, Dallis was the particular object of her father’s protection, to the point that she became frustrated and struggled against him with the assistance of her brothers until her father finally explained to her that she was the perfect image of her mother, whom Dallis hardly remembered.

As a result of the explanation, Dallis’ relationship with her father improved — as did her brothers’ relationship to him, as they’d both believed his protectiveness of Dallis to be unreasonable, and had striven to help her defy her father until he explained himself — prompting her to become alarmed when he didn’t return home when he’d said he would a few years later.

She and her brothers grieved deeply when they discovered that he had been murdered by a serial killer in California on his way home, prompting her oldest brother, who’d moved out of the family home, to move back in and take care of Dallis and her other brother, both of whom were several years younger than him, and thus not allowed to live on their own yet.

Since her father had worked in an illegal or nearly-illegal line of work, Dallis’ brothers had followed him into somewhat similar fields, and upon her father’s death, Dallis was also drawn into the criminal world.

Like her father, however, her brothers remained fiercely independent, not becoming wholly affiliated with any one group of criminals, but making or breaking alliances as it suited them, which her brothers were able to do without any retribution because of their father’s reputation for fierce independence.

As their sister, Dallis has stuck with her brothers, who are the only men in the world that she trusts completely to keep her safe and be interested in assuring her wellbeing, and are also still teaching her what she needs to know in order to command the same respect from those around her as her brothers are able to command.

She is not, however, completely dependent on her brothers, even though she genuinely loves them too much to really want to separate all that far from them, but is considered by some of those who previously associated with her father to actually have the most personality similarities to her father of his three children, even though she is still very much the picture of her mother.


Pronunciations:

Nogales: nohzhahlehz

Mihaljević: mihhahljehvihch

Thursday, August 19, 2021

Don't Let Go: Day 16

Word Total: 95,057

Year to Date: 690,296

Summary of Events:
Tor and his family went to his grandmother's property in Luxembourg for their annual three-week family vacation, during which Tor enjoyed relaxing, yet still yearned to get back to racing. Late in their vacation, Tor was summoned to speak with Vater, who questioned Tor rigorously on why he would want to keep racing when he could die, and die graphically, in such a career, while a corporate job had negligible risk of such a thing happening…

Excerpt of the Day:

“Not all the time,” Tor contended. “There are far more failures in motorsport that are far less graphic than the ones that are widely publicised. Graphic failure is not the only kind of failure in motorsport, and is actually rather uncommon.”

Vater looked rather disgusted. He turned to his laptop, raising the screen and doing something on it before turning it to face Tor, revealing that he had a motorsport video cued up on the screen.

“You mean to say that this is not graphic to you?” Vater asked coldly.

Pressing a button with a firm strike of his finger, Vater withdrew his hand while the video started into motion.

Tor very quickly identified the cars as IndyCars, as they looked rather like Formula E cars, except with windshields and engine sounds, which — along with the cheering of the crowd behind the protective fencing — was all Tor could hear.

The camera was fixed on a corner, through which several of the cars were passing, many with brightly coloured liveries that Tor actually felt were quite cluttered, making it a challenge for him to tell what teams the cars represented.

Suddenly there was an explosion of debris, Tor could see that a tire on one of the cars had failed, sending it spearing into the barrier, allowing Tor to see that its racing number was 29.

In an instant a pursuing car, unable to stop in time, collided at full speed with the rear end of the 29 car, whose nose was flung away from the barriers in a mangled mess and spun back across the track into the path of an unsuspecting car that was unable to stop, and hit the 29 car squarely in the side while another car, seeking to avoid the melée, launched upwards, the camera panning slightly to follow it, causing Tor to see a familiar logo along the barriers.

It was the logo of the most recent Indianapolis 500. That 29 car had been Uncle Zikki. Tears rushed to Tor’s eyes; he felt sick.

The footage changed to another angle, and looked like it was going to show the incident again. Tor closed Vater’s laptop with a trembling hand. He didn’t want to see it again. He hadn’t even ever wanted to see it at all.

Shifting his gaze to Vater, Tor saw a self-satisfied — and also smug — smile on his face. He knew full well that Tor had been sleeping and hadn’t seen the crash live, and he’d had the nerve to go and find it somewhere.

As if his body were a room full of gas vapour in which a match had just been lit, white-hot rage exploded within Tor. He didn’t think he’d ever been more upset in all his life.

“You are heartless!” Tor screamed. “You are remorseless! That you would dare use such horrid and grotesque things for your own ends! How dare you! I will never follow in your footsteps! I have never had any intentions to do so, and what you have just done has accomplished the absolute opposite of helping your cause! I hate you! I will always hate you! I’ll go to my grave hating you! Even if you’re already dead!”


Next Post: 31 August

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Don't Let Go: Day 15

Word Count: 90,027

Summary of Events:
Owing to the intense emotions of being at the Nürburgring to race without Uncle Zikki, Tor had a miserable qualifying that saw him starting thirtieth of thirty-one drivers. He was inclined to despair, but Arndt called him and offered encouragement, and he also ended up learning that one of Alexa's cousins was bringing his five or six-year-old son to the track for his first time watching live racing, which prompted Tor to strive to do his best despite his grief. His best, as it happened, turned out to be pretty good, as he came across the line in third at the chequered flag…

Excerpt of the Day:

Blinking to try and get the tears out of his eyes so that he could navigate the track, Tor hoped that he could pull himself together soon enough to stand on the podium and smile, but, at the same time, he felt sure that he’d go to pieces on the podium, for he’d be standing on the exact same step that Uncle Zikki had stood on when he’d first seen Uncle Zikki race.

As he navigated the track, Tor strove to banish his thoughts and memories of Uncle Zikki from his mind before he reached the pit lane, where he pulled up to the board with the number three printed onto it, being careful to come to a full stop before he made contact with the board.

Tor shut off his car and sat still for a moment before carefully removing his steering wheel from its place and setting it on the bodywork that covered his legs. He then unfastened his seatbelts slowly before carefully wiggling his way out of his car. He put his steering wheel back in before he climbed out of the cockpit.

Aston, who’d won the race, was standing, looking to have been waiting. He wrapped Tor in a tight embrace, but if he said anything, Tor didn’t hear it.

After releasing Tor, Aston jogged over to their team — among whom was standing Nikon, who’d been forced to retire when his car got caught up in a collision at the end of the start-finish straight — and embraced the team members eagerly and enthusiastically.

Nikon beckoned to Tor, who walked over slowly. As soon as Tor got close enough, Nikon reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace. Tor desperately tried to blink the tears out of his eyes, but to no avail.

“I knew you could do it,” Nikon said.

Tor released Nikon and ended up being dragged into embraces by the team, who had been tender and sympathetic toward Tor all weekend, and Tor could feel that even though they were celebrating, they were also sympathetic toward him, conveying an understanding of his emotions.

It wasn’t until after he’d been weighed that Tor took off his helmet, HANS device, balaclava, and even his gloves.

“Didn’t you start in thirtieth?” Ákos — the other podium finisher — asked.

Tor nodded, taking up a towel and wiping his face.

“How did you get here then?” Ákos asked.

“That crash that took out just about half the field probably helped,” Aston said.

Tor nodded.

“But even still,” Ákos said. “How did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” Tor replied, shrugging.

They made their way toward the exit out onto the podium, where Tor was announced as the third-place finisher. He managed to wave to the crowd before stepping up onto the podium, where he wiped his face with the towel he’d brought with him, hoping to hide the fact that he was still struggling not to cry.


Pronunciations:

Nikon: neekawn

Ákos: ahkohs

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Don't Let Go: Day 14

Word Count: 84,013

Summary of Events:
Tor's next races were in Italy, where he ended up meeting the CEO and COO of Souček International, who had decided to come see him in action for themselves. Returning home, Tor found that the apology letter he'd left Orlanda had been answered only with an acceptance of the apology, despite Tor's hope that she might've apologised for refusing to let him apologise initially. The next races were at the Nürburgring, where Tor struggled with more emotions than he'd expected, prompting him to take a walk around the Nordschleife, which hadn't helped as he'd hoped…

Excerpt of the Day:

He’d suspected that coming back to the Nürburgring for the first time since Uncle Zikki’s funeral just over two months ago would be emotional, not only because of his memories of Uncle Zikki’s funeral, but also because of the fact that it was his first ever single-seater race at the Nürburgring — an occasion he had hoped Uncle Zikki would be alive and present to see — and he had so many other memories of Uncle Zikki and the Nürburgring.

His first-ever live race had been at the Nürburgring. He’d gone with Opa, who had told him to pay attention to the number twenty nine car. He, with Opa, had cheered it to a podium finish before Opa had taken him to the pit lane, and particularly to the spot where the podium finishers parked their cars.

To his shock and delight, when the number twenty nine car’s driver had removed his helmet, it had revealed the familiar face of Uncle Zikki — whom Tor hadn’t previously known to be a racing driver — which had filled Tor with the desire to become a racing driver too, and had led to his being enrolled in karting for the following season.

That day had hardly been a decade ago, but Tor remembered it as clearly as if it had happened hours ago. As if he were still a six-year-old sitting on the shoulders of one of Uncle Zikki’s mechanics to have a better view of the podium ceremony, getting sprinkled with droplets of champagne.

There was also Uncle Zikki’s first — and, unfortunately, only — appearance at the Nürburgring as an F1 driver a few years later, where he’d managed to drag his underfunded back-marker car to a P15 finish that had been considered something of a remarkable feat, as prior to that juncture the only driver he’d been racing against had been his teammate.

Uncle Zikki had also managed to appear at the Hockenheimring once before the team had folded, leaving him without a seat in F1, even if he’d been able to get a last-minute deal to be a test driver for a back-of-the-midfield team, which had been renewed a couple times before Uncle Zikki had made the decision to move to IndyCar. A fatal decision, Tor felt now.

He knew everyone on the grid pitied him — well, except probably Marius and Valerio, but he suspected even Gaëtan pitied him a little bit — and was sympathetic toward him; he’d been showered with reassuring pats and comments that were verging on cliché already since the moment he’d arrived, but it wasn’t doing anything beneficial whatsoever, as far as Tor was concerned.

Of course, Tor didn’t have any more of an idea how to make the pain he was feeling go away, and since those around him weren’t feeling anything near to comparable pain for themselves — a fact of which he was very confident — he was very doubtful that they had ideas either, much less better ones.

They probably didn’t even realise how deep the pain was that he was feeling, how constant the assaults of memories were on him, how deeply he yearned to have Uncle Zikki appear and prove that everything had just been a massive nightmare.


Pronunciations:

Nürburgring: nuhrbuhrgring

Nordschleife: nohrdshlaefuh

Monday, August 16, 2021

Don't Let Go: Day 13

Word Count: 78,140

Summary of Events:
Tor finally saw Orlanda for the first time since he'd tracked her down in Rome, and could tell she was upset at him before she told him so curtly and left without giving him the chance to apologise. Since he had a race right away, Tor messaged her an apology, but discovered upon arriving at the race's location that she'd unfollowed him on social media and not replied to his apology before he joined his teammates in going out for waffles and explained the situation to them, although they didn't really have any advice for him. In the closing stages of the race, just after a safety car period ended, Tor gained the lead of the race, but was unable to open up a gap on the driver he'd passed, who continued to fight him doggedly…

Excerpt of the Day:

Two more laps that were much the same followed, and although Tor was glad to be keeping Lachlan behind him like he wanted to, he was frustrated that he wasn’t getting as far ahead as he wanted to be getting, which he felt was being hampered by an increasing vibration his team were looking into.

Finally a glance at his pit board told him that it was the final lap. Tor dug in. He wasn’t going to let Lachlan pull out a last-lap overtake for the win. He wanted this win, and he was going to get it.

He could tell that Lachlan seemed to be getting frustrated, as he was being more aggressive, but Tor defended against his every move. Even if he was new to Formula 4, he’d come into the series as a top-flight karting champion. He knew how to defend leads, even if the machinery he was now operating was different from what he’d been using the season before.

As in the four laps since the safety car had pulled in, Lachlan challenged for the outside in the eleventh turn, but Tor fought back and they were side-by-side with Lachlan holding the inside line through the twelfth turn.

Tor managed to get better traction and lunge ahead of Lachlan out of the corner, but Lachlan was still partially alongside him down the straight. Into the thirteenth turn Lachlan locked up his tires and ran wide.

Surging through the final corner with as much speed as he dared, Tor surged down the main straight. He could see the chequered flag waiting for him and put his foot down, his car was vibrating intensely, but he wasn’t letting off the accelerator.

Suddenly his car snapped violently. Tor let go of the steering wheel as the car speared hard into the pit wall. The rear end swung around, turning the whole car around backwards before coming to a stop with a soft bump as the rear end came to rest against the pit wall, the front suspension mangled.

Seeing something moving, Tor looked up and saw that the chequered flag and a yellow flag were both being waved. He’d crossed the line in first. He’d won the race, even if he’d ended up crashing to do it.

Tears rushed to his eyes.

“Are you okay?” his engineer asked urgently. “Tor! Are you okay?”

Tor lifted his visor and reached his fingers inside, sobbing.

“Tor!” his engineer called urgently. “Answer me! Are you okay?”

Fumbling for the radio button, Tor pressed it.

“I’m not hurt,” he sobbed. “There’s no pain.”
“Are you sure?” his engineer asked.

“Yes,” Tor sobbed. “It’s just… I’ve won… and Uncle Zikki’s not here… to celebrate it with me.”
“Oh,” his engineer sighed with relief. “I’m sorry Tor.”

Tor shut off his car and unfastened his seatbelts before worming his way out of his car. He pulled off his helmet, HANS device, and balaclava as violently as he dared and tossed them into the seat of his car before burying his face into his hands and sobbing.

Saturday, August 14, 2021

Don't Let Go: Day 12

Word Count: 72,134

Summary of Events:
To Tor's immense delight and relief, the Czech man — and his associates in Czechia, to whom he sent photos and videos of Tor on top of giving a verbal report — agreed to provide Tor with the remainder of the financial backing he needed to keep racing, with the man and Opa hammering out a deal at the track, which meant Tor could participate in the rest of the race weekend. Oma reminded him that his father might still disapprove when he found out, but Tor refused to be intimidated by the thought and posed with the Czech man for some photos to mark the occasion in the paddock…

Excerpt of the Day:

Turning his head mostly just to look around, Tor saw among the people walking around the paddock — which included not merely the Formula 4 drivers and team personnel, but also drivers and team personnel for the other series which were racing over the weekend, and whose series Formula 4 was there as a support race for — Vater and Mama.

Vater looked stern and unimpressed, while Mama looked like she might be dealing with some mixed feelings, as Tor wasn’t sure Mama had been in a racing paddock without Uncle Zikki, and he supposed Mama was probably remembering.

Mama gave Tor a much gentler hug than she had at the airport the day before, as well as kissing his jaw lightly.

“Ah,” Opa said. “Herr Černý, these are Tor’s parents, my daughter Alena, and her husband Sigwald Bergmann. Ane, Siggy, this is Arnošt Černý of Souček International, who have just agreed to become Tor’s main sponsor.”

Tor could see that there was some recognition between Vater and Herr Černý, as if they’d met one another before.

As for Mama, she was looking at Tor with pleading eyes and a dismayed look. Although he felt badly, Tor looked at Mama with resolve. He wasn’t going to quit racing, no matter what.

“I suspected there was a connection between the two of you,” Herr Černý said. “But I never would’ve guessed it was this close.”

Tor looked at Herr Černý, who was looking wary. He looked at Vater, whose face was rapidly reddening with rage.

“How dare you!” Vater shouted, his eyes blazing. “You have betrayed yourself!”

“How so?” Tor asked coolly.

“How so?” Vater demanded. “How so!?”

Tor nodded.

“You have sold yourself to a rival!” Vater shouted. “A direct rival!”

“So?” Tor asked, looking at Vater defiantly. “I’m not interested in the company whatsoever, and if what I’ve done doesn’t prove that to you, then I don’t know what I need to do to make it clear to you that I would rather race than anything else in the world.”

The rage which had been burning in Vater’s eyes changed as Tor spoke; he saw a flash of deep pain in them, but he couldn’t tell if it lingered because Vater immediately turned on his heel and started stalking away.

Tor looked at Mama, who looked as bemused as he felt. Once again, he’d expected Vater to shout at him so loudly that he’d make himself hoarse, but instead Vater had remained uncharacteristically silent.


Pronunciations:

Czechia: chehkeeah

Herr: hehr

Černý: chehrnee

Sigwald: sihgvahld

Ane: ahneh

Arnošt: ahrnohsht

Souček: soochehk