Dearly Beloved, I am beat out.
I wrote 1687 words today, of which all are trash and more are insane. I have completely lost my grip on grammar, and music only goes so far to keep my brain inside my veins.
I should not have tried to read Wintergirls. That was a mistake, and my internal organs have not commenced feeling calm again. In other news, I have to wear long sleeves to work because I keep doodling ink on my arms, and that is not “professional.” (Seemingly there are such things as “appearances” to keep up. Who knew?)
But in writing news, I fear greatly my end-of-march deadline. Today- people lied and Nanami saw. (Or did she?) All that research about prisons, and it came to naught.
World-building revelation of the hour- phones are electric. DARN IT. So is the internal combustion engine, and radios. So I’m thinking of a nice way to use some electrics but not alls? Or perhaps I’ll just leave that for times when I am less insane. Ah-hah.
Upcoming events- Ewan defines his insults, Adam is rejected and therefore despairs, Laura is calm and probably cuddling ensues, and Ethan goes dancing. Or maybe I’ll just nuke the world. NO WEDDINGS FOR YOUSE. ALL DEATH.
Oh Midas-in-a-bottle-for-drinkable-end, I need to sleep. If anyone can make sense of what I wrote today- they should probably be committed.
I really need to rename Ethan. Does anyone have any ideas?
Word count: 1,593
Overall: I’m kinda stuck between hating PASSIONATELY what I’m writing now, and being struck by the glory of how much better it’ll be when I rewrite. And granted, that will probably be my attitude when I’m re-writing. (oh, this will be so much better next time!) but it helps to make me feel pleasantly schizophrenic.
Today: Ethan still has a lock on being cute, Mister Theyneker is uncaring about you or your pain, and Islay is cuter. Also, Laura is a woman of steel.
Upcoming: Ewan throws up (yay!) Adam questions his faith cause girls don’t like him, and Ethan finds that he doesn’t like newspapers.
I need to stay away from “clever” titles. This is clear. But I’m going to let that one stay, for teh lolz. *cough* It’s time for the tradition, the wonder, that is Nano Wrap-up! WHOOOOO
(I just washed two hours of dishes and now have tea, can you tell?)
I’ll start with a shout-out to my characters. *beams*
- Adam – It just gets worse. I’m sorry. But you’re so FUN to break. *cough* I’m sorry about the girls. And the torture. But really, it wasn’t THAT bad…
- Nanami – You’ll feel better later. I’m sorry. I really am sorry, but sometimes the only way is to break and re-form. You had shiny travels?
- Laura – I didn’t want to like you, but I do… You haz mad skillz, woman. I don’t want to know what they are, but still. Props to you.
- Ewan – Heh. Heh. Don’t look at me like that! You KNOW you asked for it. You just attract violence! I uh, don’t know what’s going to happen to you. I think fights are gonna be involved. Aren’t you HAPPY? Don’t use language like that around me, young man. You love it, I know.
- Ethan – You’re a jerk. Too bad I keep liking you! Stupid dis-loyal jerkface pretty boy. *growls* I’m gonna make you PAY.
- Mr. Theyneker – Stay away. Seriously. You scare me. Seriously. AWAY. I mean it. *hides behind anything large and locked*
- Amelie – *salutes* You were random and I like you. I like your back story. I like your distain. I like that I’m never going to see you again, Lord Willing.
- Dijimon – Jerk. Go away.
- Claude – You’re a random pretty boy who keeps morphing roles and I named you to annoy a fictional characters, what can I say? I’m going to make you fail, soon. Enjoy your life.
- Katie – Hi, you’re pretty. Let’s break Adam together.
- The Duke – I will find a way to involve you later, Fop. I WILL.
- Islay – You’re sweet, and awesome! I’m sorry I’m using you. Er, have a new pair of shoes?
- Sidney – You are still my favourite bit characters. I’m gonna bring you back. ANd then the Bad Girls can fight to see who you are married too, cause you’re awesome. *hugs* I’m sorry about the whole prison thing.
- Mrs. Swallow – I’m sorry about your son. You’re lovely. I really, really am sorry. *cringes*
- Hana – You’re WAYYY to perky. Go perk over there kthnxbai.
- My Bad Girls – I less than three you all. I’m sorry about the whole prison thing. I’m gonna get you out? GJ with the torture and kidnapping and all. I promise it’ll be better in the edit, too.
- The Train People – I thought you were my favourite bit people. Then I realized that you’re actually another novel. Someday…
- Jim – I’m not sure yet if you’re a good guy or you just killed a bunch of kids. But you’re pretty. Um. *unsure* I’m sorry the flirting lines I gave you were so lame. I’m sure you’re MUCH smoother than that.
I think that’s everybody! Aren’t they wonderful, and doesn’t my story sound cheerful?
Now to go over what was actually accomplished. (And what I learned)
- I wrote 66,690 words on a story that doesn’t show any signs of stopping any time soon. There is srysly a LOT that has to be revealed and dealt with. *I take a moment to weep* (My plots are weeds. They grow in directions I don’t want them too, take root in strange places, and Do. Not. Die. Also I’m wordy.)
- The story started as a fantasy which was shiny and full of teenage fun, and it became, well, steampunk featuring betrayal, deception, and death. I mean, if you start with your MCs being terrorists, there are only so many ways it can go. (I’m pretty sure that I’m still writing YA, but I have a potential to get dark. You want hope? You’re going to have to WORK for hope. Also, teenagers are so flexible for one reason only- to heal faster after they’ve been broken. There will be breakage.)
- I tried to keep continuity, and keep plotlines under control. I failed. (WRITE A DETAILED OUTLINE AND KNOW WHAT YOUR EVER-LOVEING PLOT IS. I AM NOT EVEN JOKING, SELF.)
- I realized today that I came up with most of this plot a.) when a family member was moved to palliative care b.) while waiting around the hospital for this person to die, and c.) while being attacked by normal life after the death. (When in a setting like this, you will think your plots will be nice and light and frothy. They won’t be. You’ll do things like putting a main character on death row for a murder they didn’t commit- for the sake of character development- and seriously consider not getting them off- and think it’s just normal and cheerful teen drama. Be Aware Of Your Mental State When Plotting. Also, what was up with the invisible kids that I cut on the first day? Srysly, brain, sleep is good for you.)
- After, I think it was 18 days straight, I burned out, and needed to take a break. This felt awful, but I did write better after taking a day off! (Writing is wonderful, we know this. I still need to give my mind time to catch up and develop sub-plots that make any kind of sense.)
- And finally- After much non-production in the final days of nano, I turned off my internet for six hours and wrote over 5 thousand words. (I am easily distracted, I shouldn’t try to stay on twitter, facebook, chat and blogs- and write at the same time. It will not work.)
There you have it! My profound wrap-up. Now if you’ll excuse me, my family hasn’t seen me in a month.
- Daily: 2,840
- Overall: 23,411
Wait, what? I thought I didn’t hit word count. I guess, I did. Huh. Yay? HURRAH FOR WORDY WALKING UP STAIRCASES. *throws confetti*
Have a pretty wordle!
Laura doesn’t get much face time, does she? Also I wrote a torture scene today which makes me loathe to sleep. Just, yeah. *pokes Ethan* Sorry, man. You’re just smart and know things.
Going to go sleep now kthnxbai.
- Daily: 2,588
- Overall: 10,709
Oh, and I broke ten thousand, so I’m allowed to make a wordle! *dances* I’m going to make one to commemorate every ten thousand words, and see if things change. 😀
Oh, and have an excerpt! I was enjoying spending time with Ethan again… He wasn’t though, sad to say. Silly boy!
The woman’s brow furrowed, and she produced something from her pocket. She was saying something, but Ethan was too focused on the scraps of copper in her hands. “Yes, those are mine! Can I have them back please? And be untied?” His voice started to falter as he realized what he was saying, but he managed to finish with a winning smile at the brown-eyed woman.
The woman said something, which he again couldn’t understand. Why hadn’t he learned to read lips? That would have been really useful if he was ever kidnapped and had his hearing stolen. Ethan tried to look as harmless and beseeching as possible. Given his situation and nature, that was very far down the pathetic-scale. The woman shook her head and pocketed the implants, and then left the room. Ethan rested his face on his knees again. Should have known that anyone walking around in this situation was not a friend. Maybe she was just talking to her boss? Yeah, right.
He sniffed again. Kidnaped, deaf and tied up. There had to be a bright side to this situation. At least she’d stopped him from choking himself, so probably she and her boss wanted him alive.
That- wasn’t really a very comforting thought.
Tomorrow is the 5th of November. Gunpowder, treason and plot! And I’m going to be torturing people…
Hehe heh heh.
The future looks like fun. ^_^
- 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.”
- 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.