Four Days Later

Uhm.

Yeah, it's been four days since I've posted and I apologize.

I've been so busy trying to catch up, and I'm slowly managing to do so.

You can look at the side bar to the right to see where I am... 17,533 words right now. And I should be at 21,671 at the end of the day. I may or may not be able to catch up today, but I am surely going to try my best.

According to the NaNo website, right now I need to write 1,804 words per day to finish on time.

I think I can manage that, what about you? (I've written 2,291 in roughly 3 hours.)

On the second novel I started this month, I have almost a plot. At least, I have many scenes in mind, and that leads to the in between steps from one to the other. I can't wait to write some of them!

I don't really have much of substance to say today, so I will give you an excerpt of my new novel. (still untitled)

Cold metal shackles dug into his wrists and his ankles. He was forced to lay spread eagled on an ice cold, hard stone slab in the middle of a room. The walls were covered with mirrors, as was the ceiling, and the walls reflected every scream he screamed back at him. And he did scream. There was no way he couldn’t scream. They wanted him to scream, he thought, it was why they didn’t gag him.

For now they were gone. A short respite before the torture began again. He didn’t know what they wanted. They didn’t ask questions, they didn’t even speak. They had bought him from a slaver for cheap. After all, who would want a starved, weak, half elven child? He was no good for physical labor. He was too small and too thin. He wasn’t smart, he could not even add simple numbers. But he had been bought. The only thing they’d done to him since they’d gotten him was to hurt him, though. Why?

He heard a door echo in the distance and he struggled weakly against his bonds. It was no use. It never was. That never kept him from trying every time they came back. He thought that may have been what they wanted as well. They wanted him to fight. When they came into the room, though, he stopped struggling. If that was what they wanted, he wouldn’t give it to them. One of the man, with a sharply hooked nose and beady unfriendly eyes, came close to his face with a long, wicked knife in hand.

As usual, nothing was said. The man placed the steel blade against the skin of Aoduain’s cheek and cut a ragged tear from the bottom of the boy’s earlobe to the corner of his mouth. A scream of pain tore from his mouth yet again as the blade seemed to not only cut, but to burn him as well. With the pain, though, came anger. A fury so great rose up in him that it tinted everything red. Looking up at his reflection in the mirror there, he seemed to grow. He grew taller and thinner, but his muscles also became more well defined.

The bonds keeping him tied down snapped and a fierce pleasure rose up in his stomach at the identical looks of fear on the two men’s faces. Aoduain stood and had to duck his head in order to keep from hitting the ceiling. As he took a step forward, hand outstretched, the man with the beak like nose burst into flames and the second, portlier, man ran. Aoduain reached out to him and a whip of fire extended from his palm, wrapping itself around the man’s fat neck. Pleasure once more warmed his stomach as he watched the life fade from the man’s eyes.

The man’s mouth opened wide. “Aoduain!”

He jerked awake at Talliel’s voice, blinking away the confusion as he sat up. It was bright, had he slept past day break? But no, it was warm. Too warm, he was sweating. Blinking once more his gaze came to rest on the tree, or what was left of it. It was on fire, a blazing beacon in the night. He flinched away from it in fear and the fires grew higher. All around him, as he looked, were scorched patches of ground. Directly underneath him the grass had browned and withered, not burned, but as they die in the winter.

Yup.

Dream sequence/flash back.

It was quite fun to write.

Enjoy!

And happy NaNo'ing.

Free-Writing

Okay, last night at work during a couple of my breaks, I was trying to figure out what I want to write about...

To do this, I did a couple different free-writing exercises. And I'll type up one here for you guys to read. Because 1) most people don't know what free-writing really is, I didn't either, really. 2) I have nothing better to post.

Fiery red hair whipping through the wind. Flowing skirts clanging jingling bells flashes splashes spots of color loud laughs silent screams mothers fears fathers scars dark destroys light rebuilds tortured tongues loosen spiked collars bloodied water runs cold poisoned veins smothered lives under a microscope torn pages broken spines missing books loud falls turning doorways watching stars staring unblinking eyes decorated walls outshine the day dragons fall spirits scream shrouded hills singing Death colored leaves square windows towering pillars monstrous altars bloody sacrifice Nodding guards slipping sliding shadows dead king exiled son bastard daughter spies hired killers ninja of the knight Shadows hide and steal blue eyes, piercing clouds makeup hides scars ball abound music loud false smiles petty laughs meaningless words poisoned tongues hair black as night long or short as will

Don't try to find meaning in it. I didn't. It doesn't really make sense. It was good to write something again. I haven't written anything for NaNoWriMo for a couple days now. And I need to.

Anyway!

Happy Writing!

Starting Over

Alright folks. I hate my NaNoWriMo novel, Tainted.

Yup. It's true.

So I'm starting over.

On what?

I don't know yet.

What genre?

Probably fantasy.

What Characters?

No clue yet.

I have to go through my notebooks and read over my old ideas and see if any of them spark anything for me right now. If not, I'll have to start totally from scratch.

Good luck to me, right?

Also, I haven't written anything in the past two days. Today will be my third day with no words written... We'll see if I make 50k this year.

Keep writing!

Uhm... NaNo?

So...

I don't have a post for today. Or yesterday.

So here's an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo novel?

As her attention strayed to the fire, she was caught off guard. The man landed a blow on her shoulder and Sarah Juliet slammed into the wall behind her with a sickening crunch. It was a sound similar to the sound wet wood makes when it snaps. But with more pain. Pain blossomed behind her eyes and blotted out the world. Red lines crossed her vision and threatened to fade to black.

Sarah Juliet fought it, though. She fought it with all her might. She would not pass out. She would not pass out. It worked. Her eyes opened and she flinched. The man stood close. Too close. His eyes were red, and blood shot. His hair, black, hung in lank strands down to his shoulders. His skin was as pale as alabaster, but looked as fragile as paper. As if a strong wind would blow him over, or shatter him like glass.

If the force that had thrown her into the wall was a show of strength, he was anything but weak. And he had her against the wall. His hand kept her shoulder against the wall, and her feet off the floor by at least a good twelve inches. His eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared.

“Who are you?”

She flinched at his voice. Gravelly and full of earthy tones, it reminded her of the sound of tires on gravel when alone at night after watching a horror movie. With a paved drive way, and no one is supposed to be home anyway. It made her fear to her very core. His breath didn’t help matters, either. It smelt like what she imagined a bloating, rotted corpse would smell.

“Who. Are. You?”

He obviously disliked her lack of an answer. Swallowing a sarcastic retort, she blinked to try and clear her eyes of the smoke.

“My name is Sarah Juliet.”

He smirked, and she saw his teeth were black as coal, and filed to points. “Juliet? Like the star crossed lovers from that old tale?”

“Something like that.”

I have no clue who the scary looking guy is. I don't think he's technically a bad guy though.

Have a good day!

NaNoWriMo Ate My Soul

So as you guys know, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo.

My word count isn't as bad as it has been in the past, it's actually above the requirement for today. (7,097 of 6,668 in case you were wondering.)

However, my characters and novel are beginning to annoy me. Except for the Twins and a character I hadn't even planned on.

I'm floundering. Do I continue with the plot as planned (admittedly, I only have a little bit more planned) or follow this new guy and see what he does? I don't even know how I would get him wrapped up with the Twins as I think he wants to stay unknown, but has only met Sarah-Juliet.

Gah! I don't know. And I feel that others may have the same quandary.

My advice to you is as follows.

Don't sweat the small stuff. 

And during NaNoWriMo, this is small stuff. Focus on your word count goals and the rest will follow. If a character you hadn't planned for makes an appearance, don't edit them out, let them have their say. 

A side character stealing the show? Power to 'em! Follow their story, tell it until it is over. Perhaps there's more to the story than you had suspected, or you weren't telling the right story. 

The plot not heading in the way you planned? Let it. Again, the story you were telling may not be the way it actually happened. Let the characters tell their story. Just get out of the way. 

Treason Review

Treason by S.M. Boyce

"Ourea has always been a deadly place. The lichgates tying the hidden world to Earth keep its creatures at bay—for now.

Kara Magari ignited a war when she stumbled into Ourea and found the Grimoire: a powerful artifact filled with secrets. To protect the one person she has left, she strikes a deal that goes against everything she believes in. But things don’t go as planned.

Braeden Drakonin can no longer run from who—and what—he is. He has to face the facts. He’s a prince. He’s a murderer. He’s a wanted man. And after a betrayal that leaves him heartbroken, he’s out for blood.

To survive, both Kara and Braeden must become the evil each has grown to hate."

First, I have to get this out of my system. I began reading this and my only reaction was OHMYGOD! Squee! *dinosaur hand motions* I was in total fangirl mode. Heck, I still am. I love these books. I love the characters. And I love S.M. Boyce. Seriously. I am Boyce's biggest fan and she better realize that. Okay! On to my review!

At first, I thought the beginning started out slow, but as things started picking up speed I realize that it's actually perfect. The book picks up speed so fast that the slower beginning gives you time to get your breath before the plunge.

The middle is all go-go-go and I loved it! S.M. Boyce is a master at her craft, and just when you think things are slowing down, something goes wrong! Just when they are "safe" someone turns out to be a foe that I, at least, never expected. Not even in my most cynical moments did I expect the turns that this second book takes.

The end. Ooh, the end. The epilogue is just like... I want to be happy about that, I really do. And I was. And I felt terrible for it. The end is perfect, but gah! I want more. Like now. But the next book (Heritage) doesn't come out until next fall. *sniff* I have to wait.

I absolutely loved this book and find nothing at all to nit pick about. Nothing stood out to me as being an egregious error, nor do I remember finding any spelling/grammar errors. (And I had an ARC.)

Definitely Five out of Five stars.

Yeah, this Review was a tad fan-girly. But what can I say? I'm a huge Boyce fan.

In Which We Meet A Gypsy

Okay, this is another one of those random ideas, this one I had at work.

But FIRST! Obligatory nod of the head, happy dance, spastic hyperventilation, ecstatic wave to November the First. Do you know what that means? If you've been reading my blog you probably should. It means NaNoWriMo!

And if you still don't know what means (where have you been? Under a rock?), it means 50,000 words written in a month. It means the permission to write a terrible rough draft. It means no editing while you work. And it means writing at least 1667 words a day. Or more. Normally more. It means a month of complete and totally literary abandon. At least, that's what they say.

And I've already made my word count for the day!

I'm sitting at 1,683 words and planning on getting at least a few more before I work tonight.

Anyway! The NaNoWriMo discussion is over, (I may have a post dedicated fully to it tomorrow) so onto the gypsy!

Gypsy

Author is sitting in her chair, chewing on a pencil and staring at a blank sheet of paper again. As she is sitting a woman steps out of the shadows, admittedly scaring the bejeezus out of Author. Really, people should be more considerate and warn her before they walk out of her subconscious. 

Author turns, "Who are you?" She is not unfriendly, just curious and lacking in people skills. 

The woman has tanned, almost leathery in it's age and sun-beaten-ness. Long, thick hair hangs past her shoulders and is bright red, except where gray has begun taking over. Around the woman's mouth are faint lines, and make it appear she is about to smile any moment. 

Her clothing is brightly colored, being a skirt that hangs to her knee on the right side, but drags on the ground at the left, and a shirt that appears no more than a long strip of cloth wound about her torso. Both the skirt and the top have bells sewn into them, so every movement or shift of body she makes is heard clearly. There would be no way to move silently in such an outfit. 

"I am Morhaktihna Kryllmynl."

"Uh huh... 'More-hock-teen-uh Krill-men-ull.'" 

"That is correct." 

"You are Zhahilen?" 

"No."

"Then you are Zhacorahl."

"Yes."

"Why-?"

"I was to be Saralmai. I did not wish it. So I left."

"You left? And made it past the Spine and to the wetlander's world, I suppose?"

"It was not easy, but yes, I did."

"Uh huh. Well, if you would go through that door there behind you and choose a room, I will call you when you are needed. All comforts will be provided for you." 

As Morhaktihna dipped her head and did as she was bade, Author put her head in her hands. What was it with these Zhahilen characters and not following the customs of their people? Most Zhahilen weren't like this. But then again, they wouldn't make good characters if they did as they were expected all the time. 

----

Well, that was something. 

Happy NaNo'ing all!