"Imma fight till we see the sunlight."

Word count;

  • Today: 2,922
  • Overall: 8,119
That was six scenes! I is impressed with myself. ^_^
*sigh* Not really. I just watched the quality of my writing go significantly downhill today. BUT I CONTINUE NONE THE LESS.
Here, have an excerpt which has nothing to do with the plot.

“Good Morning, Mrs. Robertson!” Ethan batted his eyelashes at his boss.

She spun the dial on the side of the steam autoclave and didn’t bother to look at him. “It’s afternoon, you’re late, and I don’t see what’s particularly good about it.”

Ethan leaned on the counter and grinned. “Come on, I was only five minutes late and I had to change my batteries before I scrubbed in!”

“Change. Batteries.” Mrs. Robertson didn’t sound encouraging. She started loading the next cart to be sterilized.

“Yes!” He nodded enthusiastically and pulled back the hair net to show off his Cochlear Implants. “For my ears, and then the mirror was fogged, so I couldn’t see what I was doing, so it really wasn’t my fault.” He took a deep breath. “At all.”

“Why are you still talking?” She was smiling ever so slightly- but only on the side away from the teenage boy.

“Because I am attempting to earn your approval?” He looked thoughtful. “Or maybe just avert your wrath. Perhaps I shouldn’t aim too high-” He cut himself off and looked delightedly at the clipboard that was just put in his hand. “I still have a job? I have a task?”

“Yes, you have a job.” Mrs. Robertson carefully kept her face straight. “You may not have morals, work ethic or punctuality, but you have a job. Get going while you still do.”

Ethan was already heading for the surgery carts. “Ma’am, yes Ma’am! I will give my very best impression of a punctual, immoral work ethic.”

“Don’t you mean punctual moral work ethic?” Emily- an amused grandmother of three- had been listening to the work drama while loading the ultrasonic bath.

Ethan winked at her. “I’m trying to set reachable goals. Two out of three, I just might manage! But all three…” He shook his head mournfully and caught sight of his Boss. “Er, let’s see. A cart for Carpal Tunnel Release. Is this open or endoscopic?”

“Read the chart.”

“Good point!”

Advertisements

"Two wrongs make it all alright tonight."

Word Count

  • Daily: 1,885
  • Total: 5,199
On the happy side, I did get a lot more of my outline hammered out. So that makes me happy. Oh, and I beat up Ewan, which shouldn’t make me happy… but it does… Sorry Ewan. You’re just a jerk. That’s why you should get moral, see, then I won’t want to hurt you! *perky*
Oh, and Ethan likes to pretend he’s gay. On a related note, I’ve never been so glad to see a character ogle girls. Whew, I’m sleeping now.
Fare Well, internets!
Oh wait, you can have a quote. 😀

The other man, who was sporting a shinily new wedding ring, took off his jacket and dropped it on the floor. “Are you blind, or just suicidal?”

Ewan cracked his knuckles and sneered. “Oh, you mean the ring? You mean you’ve actually let her put you on a leash?”

“Not quite.” The man had gone very calm now, and cracked his neck with one deliberate move “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Someone who’s going to go to prison for rioting?” Ewan offered in a helpful tone.

“Maybe.” He pulled on white leather gloves. “But you should be more concerned with the fact that I’ve won the national lightweight competition for the past three years.” He put his fists up.

“Oh.” Ewan added this choice of sparring partner to the long list of things that he regretted. After a pause of a few seconds, he shrugged. “Whatever, your wife is still cheap and easy.” He backed away, keeping his eyes on the boxer.

“My wife doesn’t need to be defended.” He closed the gap. “This is just cause you need to be taught a lesson.” He snapped a punch at Ewan’s shoulder.

DONE AND DONE.


Not that I celebrate in the slightest. WHOOO.

The day’s stats;
Word Count: 1979
Scenes: 2 and a bit (Don’t you love specific numbers?)
Tea consumed: I think I’m on mug three. And water. That’s why I’m head-aching! Dehydration!
Things done other than writing: Um. I’m dressed?
General satisfaction: High. Very high. *beams*
I know this story needs a lot of work, but I think it’s workable? I don’t love it in the way that I love Expendables, which is just part of my SOUL, but I think MD and I can get along. We might be able to work things out. I actually even have a slight idea of how to edit this uneven tale into submission. 😀
Oh, fine, have an excerpt. *beams* It’s so bad..
(This is as romantic as I got. I’m SO pro.)

EPILOGUE:

Adolph carefully walked along the top of the castle wall, approaching the slim woman in grey who was watching the courtyard and the marsh alternately. “How are you today, betrothed?”

Adelheid turned and smiled slightly. “I am well, thank you, Adolph.” She brushed some hair behind her ear. “It is a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

He stood next to her and looked out over the marsh, which was showing a little bit of ice around the edges. It had snowed last night. “If you like freezing to death.” He sounded gloomy.

Adelheid laughed. “No, I like NOT freezing to death. That’s why we have massive fireplaces, and halls, and all that! Yes?”

Adolph didn’t sound convinced. “You still have to go outside. And then your nose freezes.” He looked at Adelheid as she chuckled. “Are you, happy, about Christmas?”

She looked at him, and then looked down at her hands. “Um.”

Adolph took the hands, carefully. “I didn’t really have time to ask you before, Fraulein Independent. But you can obviously carry yourself well in court, you don’t panic in emergencies, you speak as many languages as I do, you look lovely, and you’re smart.” He cleared his throat. “Is it such a terrible thing, to marry a friend? Oh, and I’m fabulously wealthy. Does that help?”

She chuckled, and looked up, rather red in the face. “I’ll be honest, it does help, just a little.” She brushed at hair that didn’t need to be tidied. “But I wouldn’t mind if we had to live in a town house either. You’re the best I’ve found yet.”

Adolph grinned. “Good. I don’t want a mopey wife.” He continued grinning cockily as his betrothed glared at him. “Moping equals rebellion! And trying to tickle you into submission is just tiring, not to mention beating, I mean, wow.” He shook his head. “Much better to be happy.” 


“I’m happy I can keep you from being so inconvenienced, friend.” Adelheid responded dryly.

Adolph chuckled. “Being married to you will certainly be fun! Brrr, it’s cold. let’s go inside.” He held the ladder steady for her as she climbed down.

But if you’ll excuse me, now I need to go sleep and regrow my brain. Oh my fearsome quaver, it’s only 11 days till Nano? PANIC STARTS NOW.

*throws flaming confetti*

Word Count: 794

Scene: Done and DONE.
I finished the scene that- as mentioned- I’m pretty sure I’m going to cut. Of course, now that I’m done with it, I start making exscuses for the poor thing. It’s not THAT bad! It has good points! There are some good lines… Kinda…
No, no there aren’t. There really are not good lines. But I’m going to share an excerpt with you anyhow, because I haven’t done that for FAR too long! *chortles*

Adele blinked someone’s blood out of her eyes. The clash of metal had stopped? It appeared the battle was over. There were so many people! So many people she didn’t know, and a few she did. Brother Hugo had twin swords in his hands over there. The swords would require cleaning, it was obvious. The Herzog had a short sword and a shield. There were a lot of archers, aiming at her. Aiming through her, at Ritter Amedeous, who was using her as a shield. He was talking, in a high, panicky voice, which she ignored.

Perhaps she wasn’t entirely emotionless, despite the calmness that was making her eyesight so crystal clear. She was rather angry, still. Adele spotted a torch on the ground and snagged it with a foot. He was still talking, triumphantly. Adele didn’t care about his triumph. She pulled the torch closer. He was still talking. Bargaining. She let the torch flame play around the hem of her skirt. It caught, a thread of flame licking up her leg. It hurt, but that didn’t matter. “My skirt’s on fire.” She announced clearly, cutting through the bargaining.

So bad… However! I entered the contest here, where you post the first paragraph of your novel. I do not, in ANY way, expect to win anything, but it still made me feel better. ^_^ I saw some of the other entries go by, and I was in awe. It’s like entering American Idol. You don’t make it up in front of the judges, but at least you know can hear and identify when you sound like an asthmatic rat, and you feel better about your singing. (Fun fact: I was entry 669, and now it’s up to 919 entries. Whew!)

I should go write more of my winning, sparkling prose. Tah!

"You can’t find your way home, but you know my music. It evens out."

Wordcount: 621

Scenes: 1 and a bit?
I went back to fix a bunch of stuff today, which accounts for the small word count. Well, that and the visits, and the park, and meeting the band, and eating, and traveling… *cough* What I did write makes me happy though, which in turn makes me happy in a broader sense. 😛 And I think I might actually be managing to explain the madness that is my mind, and support certain issues, which FILLS ME WITH HOPE.
Not that I need hope.
Noooooooooooooooooo. No need AT ALL.
In other hopeful (?) news, I have ten scenes to write in eight days. GO ME. ahem. (But one of them might involve Haggerty and a table, (which is easy to write,) we’ll see.)