My shining dishonesty will be the salvation of me.

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?

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"Who is the love and who is the knife."

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.

Sorry for the extremely erratic updates lately.

I have no real excuse other than my inherent fail. Which I use as an excuse whenever possible. 😀

Anyhow, I wrote today. *is proud*

I love it so much when things work out! It just makes me happy inside. In fact, I want to write much more, but I keep having to pick my head up off the keyboard. Ahem. Now if I can just sustain this love for writing for tomorrow…

Stats;

  • Words: 2309.
  • Scenes. 1. Hehehe. You thought I did more? No. No dice, I’m not feeling the seduction yet. 
  • Thoughts. Ewan is silly and has a little brother, I now know. Hurrah for discoveries. Also, I get to use glowing mushrooms and my unholy trio! Delight!
Here, it’s been too long since you had an excerpt. Have one. ^_^

“That was a nice thing you did for Morgan.”

He flinched. The stupid girl was still in the room. Okay, maybe not so stupid- she had given him food- but he still didn’t like her presence. “Wha?” He sneaked a sidelong glance at Janet, still sitting on the table, still looking dangerous. Not dangerous in a hey-here’s-a-girl way, but in a hey-here’s-a-girl-who-knows-how-to-use-sharp-things-and-isn’t-scared-of-heights-oh-god-i’m-so-dead kind of way.

She raised her eyebrows. “Jumping into a fight for him?”

So that was where he’d known the boy. The train had stopped at a pathetic excuse for a station by an aerofield, and he’d gotten off in search of some beer or other food. There’d been a fight going on, he’d gone over to look at it, and found it was five farm boys beating the snot out of a little red-haired boy. He’d taken a swing at the largest blonde with the brains of an ox and the muscles to match, and ended up with his leather jacket- and billfold- gone for his pains. He’d even almost missed the train. Ewan grunted in answer.

“Why’d you do it?” She’d taken a little knife with a white blade from the kitchen counter, and was trimming her nails with it. “S’not like you’re a nice person, just serving justice or someat.”

Ewan showed his teeth in an almost mirthful grin. “Maybe I just like a fight?” Funnily enough, he got the impression that she didn’t mean “not a nice person” as an insult, exactly. Or maybe that was just hope that she wouldn’t cut off his fingers right here and leave him to bleed out.

“Probably.” She stood up. “No fighting here, or I’ll have to pull those rings out of your face.”

Ewan raised eyebrows ornamented with the rings in question. “Do you always resort to threats to get your way?”

Janet laughed cheerfully and dropped the knife into the sink. It made a sharp chink as it hit. “No, usually people just do what I say. I have to explain m’self and what’ll happen cause you’re new an daft. Come on, greenie, got to get the mail aboard.”

NaNoWrapO

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)
  1. 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.)
  2. 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.)
  3. 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.)
  4. 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.)
  5. 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.)
  6. 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.

"I have a book!" "Wait? What do you mean! Explain!" "well Jen, when a writer and a story love each other very much….."

So I was rummaging around to find my plot-bunny file, and I found the original one that I wrote down for Karma Police. This amused me greatly, so I decided to share. I’m generous like that.

-Karma Police

-unpleasant teenagers

-betrayal?
-fantasy/dark green
-Honour belief-lost-fight-do they stick together?
-Everybody dies?
-Fog

AND as you may have noticed from my rummaging, writing was a little- not so much. (I’m so glad no one expects coherency from me on this blog. It makes me smile)

Wordcount:

  • Daily: 1,221
  • Overall: 54,712

Srysly, that is the level of my fail. ^_^ IN OTHER NEWS, Adam is trying to be a prat. He’s trying HARD. And Ewan makes me happy. Here, have a Ewan-Excerpt.

Some whiny kid at the front of the car kept whining, and whining, and whining. Ewan tried to pull his hat over his eyes. It fell off onto the floor, He got off his chair to reach for it. It had rolled under the seat. Ewan reached for it, and stabbed his finger on a tack sticking out of the seat. “Mage.” Ewan made this sound so angry that the small girl two seats back decided to shock her friends with her horrible new curse word as soon as she got home.

Ewan sat back in his seat and stared out the window, sucking his bleeding finger. This day could end at any time, and that would be fine with him. He checked the clock at the front of the car and groaned. Only mid-afternoon? A whole day on the train, and a whole night- with a freakishly loud snoring man next to him- and now this day. Was there no mercy in the world? Clearly not. At least they were in city limits now. He decided to go get a drink. Ewan unfolded himself from the seat and made his way to the front of the car, where there was a machine that dispensed canned drinks. He braced himself against the door and the wall and fished some coins out of his pocket. The beer was bound to be warm, but it’d be better than nothing.

The machine rumbled internally and stuck. Ewan fell against it as the train went around the corner. The machine made an ominous clunking noise and vomited forth two beers. Score! He scooped them up and turned around with a grin.

The grin froze in place when presented with his new arch-enemy, the steward. The skinny bitch’s expression was faintly gloating. “You can’t drink those here.”

“Say What?” He glared.

He held out his hand. “You can’t drink those in a public space. There are kids here.”

Ewan stared at him. “Why are they for sale in a damn public space then?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, sorry.” He snapped his fingers. Ewan hadn’t seen someone so clearly not-sorry for quite a long time. He knew the type, though. The censored steward wanted him to beg- acknowledge his position. And then if he did, it was about fifty-fifty if the moron with pin stripes on his soul would give the drinks back. Ewan handed him the beers wordlessly and started back towards his seat.

Behind his back, there was a popping noise as the steward cracked one of the beers. Ewan’s shoulders went up, but he kept walking, If the gentleman wanted a fight so much, he’d be damned if he was gonna give him one.

The kid was still whining as he passed. What did he want this time, a hat? Yeah, a hat. Ewan paused in the aisle and glared at the kid till the squirt made eye contact. “How’s it feel to want?” He growled in his most don’t-even-not-today tone.

The boy hiccuped and hid behind his mom. Ewan could feel the steward approach him from behind, radiating disapproval. “Is this boy bothering you, Miss’ess?”

The woman in question, comfortably into middle age and clearly weary of traveling, smiled crookedly. “Why yes, but he seems to have calmed down now, thanks to this young man.” She directed a smile at Ewan, who touched his forehead in return and retreated to his seat, Behind him, he heard the woman continue talking. “Are you allowed to drink on the job?”

Heh. So not everyone on a train was out to get him. Porters, yes. Moms, maybe not. ThereWasTheSignForTheStationHellYes. Ewan was already on his feet and pulling his coat out of the overhead rack. He lined up by the door. The steward was yapping about safety rules- like he cared. Like anyone cared. Ewan was off the train as soon as it was within jumping range of the platform.

"Shoulda turned around and left before the sun came up again…"

My nano playlist is eighteen hours long. I impress myself. ANYWAYS.

Burnout continues to trundle along. Someone who shall remain nameless came up with the idea of making out with burnout, to distract and placate it. Perhaps I shall try that tomorrow. But today, my word count is;
  • Daily: 937
  • Overall: 41,612
And have an excerpt that- again- had nothing to do with anything! Whee for tradition!

After throwing that fit, now she was calmly eating her fries and walking sideways out of the store. Ewan stayed a few steps behind Nanami, in case she went nutcase again. The others would already be at the car…

“I’m not crazy, you know.”

Ewan kept his flinch contained inside his jacket. It wasn’t even noticeable, he was sure. “I wasn’t thinking that.” He half-lied.

“Ah-huh.” Nanami grinned at him over her shoulder as they crossed the mall parking lot. “I’m sure. It worked, though!” She frowned down at the fries in her hand. “I don’t want these, you want them?”

“It did work.” Ewan took a few long longer steps to catch up. He took the fries from her hand and scarfed them down. “Thanks. Why’d you think it would?”

Nanami had her hands stuffed in her pockets now. She shrugged. “I had a cousin, have, who has mental issues. She liked to try and get at least one person to quit every time she went out.”

“Ah-huh.” Ewan considered this. “So you knew that would-?” He trailed off, unsure how to phrase the question.

“If she hadn’t quit then, the next step was to start kissing random people or stripping.”

Ewan choked on a fry. “You, uh.” He was even less sure of how to phrase THAT question. Did both girls he was working with have no aversion to kissing random people, then? And if so, why hadn’t he gotten some of that yet?

Nanami smiled slightly, with her eyes half-shut. “I said there was a family tradition, didn’t I?”

“You, uh, like tradition?” Ewan spotted Adam’s car and headed down the next aisle in the parking lot. He was having to re-arrange a lot of boxes in his mind, especially around Nanami.

“For work.” She said calmly, almost as though she knew what he was thinking about. This made the boxes shuffle again, out of the more pleasant patterns they were forming into. Damn.

Ewan finished the fries all at once and slid into the backseat of Adam’s stupidly expensive, yuppie car. Ethan was in the passenger seat reading a map, Adam was propped up behind the wheel- (idiot,) Laura was sitting behind Adam, and- Mr. Theyneker was sitting next to him. Ewan stiffened and turned to look at him.

“I thought that went well.” The man in the suit wasn’t perturbed by the situation, or the fact that he was taking up Nanami’s seat, so she had to stand outside the car and peer into it. “Efficient imagination, and very fast. What were all of your roles in this?” He looked expectantly at Adam. Adam opened up his mouth and started to prattle stupidly.

Ewan crossed his arms and leaned back on the seat. So Mr. Fucking Theyneker thought the preppy bastard was in charge too? That was just, brilliant. Fucking Brilliant.

Also. You should all listen to the new John Mayer cd. 😀 I like Assasin, and I’m On Fire, and Half Of My Heart. A lot. *dances off*

"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.