fair weather friend
It’s a good news, bad news, kind of Day 7 of NaNoWriMo. Having gone through the usual process of falling so in love with a secondary character that he’s now a primary character, I was a bit worried about one of his old rivals. I didn’t have a feel for him, and he has to have a slight similarity while a very distinct style of his own… just a touch evil genius. Today we may have clicked. But the problem is now I look at Devan and think, yeah you’ve got your own story coming. How many does that make on the to do list? Many.
Furthermore, maybe I want to change the title. Season of Henchmen is a bit blah; is Minuet any better?
race
… or it would be if I weren’t handicapped by actually having to do something! This November, while I’m meeting the NaNoWriMo mad challenge of writing a 50 000 word novel in 30 days, the brother is growing a moustache for Movember, raising awareness and funds for men’s health. Once I stopped cackling, I sulked:
Moi, grinding down my finger tips in pursuit of the perfect phrase.
Him, not shaving.
Hmmmm! But I sponsored his effort anyway and included a demand for signed visual proof of at least 2cm growth. Now I can display my Mo of Honour. You can sponsor him too by clicky clicky on the Mo.
New Word Document
Day One of the NaNoWriMo thing and the characters have already sparked a craving for Turkish Delight. This is a problem. My supplier isn’t open until Wednesday; it’s currently Sunday. Do I hold out or consider a substitue, and meanwhile what is Lindeth doing? He certainly isn’t helping me remember the name of his cousin-in-law’s ex-wife. I know I’ve written that down somewhere and put the sticky note in a very safe place.
On a tangent, I am rosily surprised. The bouquet of roses I got last Saturday are still presentable despite being dropped a few times, carted around a beach, run down a vineyard slope, left on a table for a couple of hours, subjected to hot car rides (Audi Q7 is way over-rated), packed on a plane, then on a tram with a swipe at some little girl in the way (mostly accidental), and finally stuck in a vase for a week, water refreshed once. Huh.
Here endeth
… my good intentions probably. Yes, I’d done so well with the daily word count, and enjoyed all of it for a change instead of sitting there glaring at the counter in the lower left corner (remain unsure if I appreciate that Word feature), only to ditch it for the day yesterday while visitors were around. And now, the stormy warmth is luring me toward the bookshelf followed by a flomp upon the red velvet couch. Maybe another Linda Howard classic. Or check in with Jaz Parks.
discombobulicious
… or the sense you get between bouncing. The high today is due to having the daily wordcount done by lunch; the low is because it’s the other novel, and not just the other novel but the other one. Do I keep going? Yes. Of course.
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knot one, find two
… loose ends that is. It’s amazing that you can use all the daily word count (grrr!) filling in the gaps, crossing mental fingers that in doing so, you’ll find the thread that reveals the end … at last. I’m way over time and length on this one, almost out of patience too, but I Am Persisting. And persistent. My reward yesterday was the blinding realisation that Chapter Seven is all about Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” even to the point that the weather joined in. Now to get the song out of my head, along with the next lot of words.
Trousseau, word count = 70 080
what’s with all the screaming?
The NaNoWriMo playlist is sneaking up on me, as is the start date – argh! I’d hoped for at least 2 weeks clear but doesn’t look like Trousseau will let me go for a few more days. Doing back to back novels should be interesting. The NaNo project? A bit of space opera fun, mingling sci fi and Regency to bring the Secret Lives of Librarians (SLOL) to life. To that end:
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loot, 09
Ah, the annual book fair. Sunny morning with a breath of chill because it’s early no matter what daylight saving thinks, and I like going into the old hall up by the primary school. I could do without the helpful people running the show crowding the already narrow aisles with offers of boxes, though. Book people bring bags and/or are not shy about asking for boxes. Pop fiction was down this year, no surprise, making me even happier with what I got:
Hot Night – Shannon McKenna. In lovely condition
