Sunday, November 29, 2009

"I remember black skies, the lightening all around me..."

Song of the day!

Also this one. *cough*

In terms of writing, my little sisters today both realized that they had improperly backed up their YWP novels. So they were both down to about a thousand words apiece, and had until tomorrow midnight to get their handwritten pages up to a word count of 8k. Tears were shed, especially since they are both at the hunt-and-peck stage. So myself, my mom and my 18 year old sister stepped in to type for them. Which is my excuse for my wordcount. :D Isn't family jolly?

  • Daily: 2,129
  • Overall: 65,682
Today I broke Nanami- again. Poor girl doesn't know how much she still has to lose. ^_^

ALSO, Stephanie Perkins gave me *63,588 GIANT GOLD GLITTERY STARS.* I am awesome. I'm so awesome.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

"...they were going to the church to be married, he was pressed and sent on sea..."

Yes, I'm still listening to The Once.

I listen to traditional music, and I'm PROUD.


Also, my brain LEFT me today, so my objective is to make it to 70k. Since today was a fail. *nods*

  • Daily: 1,942
  • Overall: 63,558

Friday, November 27, 2009

"GOT IT?" "Yes Sir!" "I"M A WOMAN." "Yes MISTRESS!" "That'll do."

Today, I turned off my internet for six hours. No one I wanted to talk to was online anyhow, so I'd only be distracting myself with bad reasons. And in four hours of "writing" I'd managed 147 words. So hey, what did I have to loose?

This is what it looked like.

*I turn off wireless and promptly hyperventilate*

*drinks tea, feels better*


*And writes*

*drinks coffee*

*and writes*

*drinks grape and tonic*

*wonders why she is drinking something that tastes like cough syrup*

*writes instead*

Exciting, I know. But i'd forgotten what that feels like, and now I'm a bit blurry around the edges. YAY??? (Also, I watched what I was writing go steadily more and more sketchy. BUT IS STILL YA!)

The final damage done was; *drumroll please*
  • Daily: 5,498
  • Overall: 61,623

Have an Adam Excerpt!
On the whole, he really did not mind this mode of travel. True, it was strange, and you never knew when you would be expected to wear a mask to dinner, (thank goodness the Duke had mentioned that to him,) or get stuck in a washroom where all the doors looked like walls. These things notwithstanding, though, he kind of liked it. If only he had someone to share it with, that was the only real issue. And, to be honest, that was hardly the the fault of the Zeppelin. He smiled ruefully out the window, and looked down to find a new plate featuring spiced pork loin, garlic mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables. The good points about this assignment really did outweigh the bad points.

“Hello, buddy!” Adam nearly choked on a bite of pork as the Duke’s hand descended on his back. “Have you met Melinda?”

Adam swallowed as quickly as possible as he stood up. He cleared his throat. “No, I have not had that honour.” Which one was Melinda? The Duke had two quite beautiful black women accompanying him. They smiled behind gloves of coloured satin as he bowed.

The Duke grinned. “You need to get out more, Hewitt!” He kissed the cheek of the woman in blue and silver next to him. She raised her eyebrows at him, then rippled a small laughed. Adam did a quick ring-check, and relaxed internally. Both she and the Duke were wearing single bands on their left ring fingers, so that was all right. With the high heeled shoes that showed off her toes, and hair pinned artfully high on her head, she was taller than the Duke. The Duke blinked one eye, then the other, and grinned at Adam again. “Mind if we join you?”

“No, not at all.” The waiters had already brought over another table, and were adding a second place setting. Adam held out a chair for the other woman, who was also over six feet tall in her shoes, and dressed in green and copper, sans ring. She sat down gracefully, and smiled at him. It was a rather wonderful smile, to be honest. Adam sat down and sipped his soda water with lime as the Duke, Melinda and her nameless friend ate their soup and salad.

“Katie hasn’t been feeling well, sadly.” Melinda grinned across the table, then covered her smile with a hand and a cough. She looked seriously at Adam. “My sister catches flus with shocking regularity, it’s quite sad. Almost monthly.”

So they were sisters? “I’m, sorry. That sounds unfortunate.” The Duke found this funny, judging by the grin directed at his sorbet. Adam wondered why. Monthly sickness sounded terrible- oh. Oh. He turned red, which made everyone laugh, not unkindly.

“Is is unfortunate.” Katie twinkled. “But I’m over it now, and ready to meet these fascinating new people my sister has told me so much about.”

But, the duke and Melinda obviously knew each other, and they were wearing rings, which had to mean- she was talking about him. Adam cleared his throat. “The feeling is mutual, Miss.” He turned red again. “I mean, without the monthly sickness, but maybe...” He gave up and joined in the round of laughter. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss, how is that?” He offered her his hand.

Katie smiled as she shook it. “Better. And call me Katie.”

“Adam.” He found he was still holding her hand, unexpectedly, so he kissed it. She smiled slowly and covered the expression with her other hand.


"For there's little to live on, and many to keep."

I don't really know what I'm signing up for. But this looks like FUN. Er, Also expensive. But hey, Education is expensive, right?

*clears throat*

I pledge to read at LEAST 12 debut authors this year.


What have I done?!?!? Oh Hay, there's a blurb.
What is the 2010 Debut Author Challenge?
  • The objective is to read a set number of YA (Young Adult) or MG (Middle Grade) novels from debut authors published this year.* I'm going to challenge everyone to read at least 12 debut novels! I’m hoping to read at least 30! You don’t have to list your choices right away, but if you do feel free to change them throughout the year. I will also be focusing on mostly Young Adult novels.
  • Anyone can join, you don’t need a blog to participate. If you don’t have a blog you can always share your views by posting a review on, or any other bookish site.
  • The challenge will run from January 1, 2010- December 31, 2010. You can join at anytime!
* I would like to limit the novels to those released in 2010.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

"And kids, always remember to write safe."

I seem to be marvellously on track to enjoy a wonderful 25k-in-three-days weekend if I want to hit my goal. Yay?

Also, I had to ask a lot of questions about making out. (Thank you, you know who you are) Srysly, where do people put their arms? Arms are LONG, people, and they bend in limited places. And don't you get neck cramps? Teenagers are silly. ^_^

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

"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
-fantasy/dark green
-Honour belief-lost-fight-do they stick together?
-Everybody dies?
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)
  • 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.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

"And you wonder/ wonder/ can you last much longer/ this cloud you are under/ will it cover you/ desert rose..."

First of all, I LOVE Desert Rose, by White Heart. So much. Oh wow, how I love that song. It's one of the few desperate songs I clung to as a teenager, which still translates now that I'm, y'know, a grown up. You should hunt it down and buy it. :D

  • Daily: 2,613
  • Overall: 53,622
I, kinda kinda only kinda got inspired again. A little bit? *smiles*

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The day was a fail- BUT



*big, smily face*

You know what that means? That's right, a WORDLE. *happy happy sunshines*

Oh, and word count is *mutters*
  • Daily: 1,327
  • AND OVERALL IS NOW: 50,181
Now I only have to write 30 k in eight days to win my self-appointed nano goal. Easy, right? :D

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Word count:
  • Daily: 3.672
  • Overall: 48,851
Tired now,

In which I blog to avoid writing.

I am not sure that I've mentioned this, but I'm writing Karma Police in five POV*s. Why, you ask? Because I'm crazy. DUH. *cough* Anyhow, yes, each of my five MC^s are taking turns telling you what is REALLY going on. (I also took a brief jaunt into letting Ewan's mom talk, but that's only because she's faded and hopeful and brutally honest, and I heart her. *cough*)

ANYHOW. This is rather different for me. I've written three other stories before, and DNL, seriously, I had no idea what I was doing. I don't even know what I did. It was fun, but yeah. Plot? I LAUGH in the face of plot. And then there was Merchant's Daughter, which was only slightly better, and by the end of it I was sticking inside Adelheid's head, come what may including passing out in the middle of important scenes. (Easy way to end a scene? Noooo, I'm sure I wasn't thinking of that.)

Then there was Expendables. Oh, Expendables. My poor, deformed, mortally ill child. You need so much surgery... I don't even know what I was doing at first. It was Nano, okay? Then I wrote a serious portion of the story during a deep funk/exploring the grieving process (it's fun!) By the end of it the thing had been riding me so long it was just like opening a vein and letting the story gush onto the page. Messily. And there was pain. Characters talked on top of each other, so I just wrote it that way. I changed POV* mid scene- mid PARAGRAPH. I don't even know what I was doing. SO MUCH SURGERY.

And now I have Karma Police! Which I am trying to keep under control.

Never mind that I avoided one bit lump of write-many-many-many-words-on-me-noew-plz by throwing in a handy dose of amnesia, and avoided another scene that wanted to turn into five mini-adventures by, uh, wait, I didn't avoid that, did I? My bad. *cough* Aren't Zeppelins shiny? And TRAINS. And suspenders. Heheh. Suspenders.

*drifts off into a trance, staring at suspenders*

So yes. *cough* Control. I'm trying to keep control.

I even have an outline, isn't it shiny?

Yes. I'm colour coding POVs. So I can keep track of when someone new needs to talk. ^_^ And anything indented means it's a flashback.


Er, yes, clearly. SO clearly.

But yes. I'm really enjoying the comparison between POVs, though you probably won't. *evil chuckle* However, it does mean that when I do finish a scene, it's not easy to just DIVE into the next one, because most of the time the next one is inside someone else's head. So I have to eat some chocolate, and listen to appropriate music, and braid my hair- er, well, maybe not, but it's HARD, okay? *whine whine whine*

I really should to traumatize Nanami now. KThnxBai

Footnotes: (Because my little sister mentioned she might be reading this now.)
*POV - Point Of View
^MC - Main Character

Friday, November 20, 2009

Well, *I* had a fun day.

So, when at nine pm I still hadn't written anything, I gave up, read Wicked Lovely, and watched 21.

It was fun.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

"What WAS that?" "I was on fire, that is all you need to know."

So every writer has three inhabitants of her (or his) mind; Muse, Inner Editor, and Burnout. You know it's true!

Anyhow, in talking to my friendlies today, we had a little too much fun describing parts of our inner unholy trinities.
  • Neldor said her Burnout was kinda pathetic and shy but smart, a bad kisser (he says he knows how to french kiss, just let him show you!) but cuddly, and looks rather like Mr. Universe, from Serenity. (Later updates prove that he's only shy and or pathetic to get you in his arms (and not writing). Clever boy.)
  • Kemendraugh said her Muse was a clean, bright, shiny poster boy with great teeth (even when he's hungover,) and Burnout was a bad boy, with leather, leather, chains, tongue piercing, leather, spiked hair, studs, and leather.
  • My Inner Editor is a snarky teenage boy who keeps laughing sooo sarcastically at my writing, but secretly adores it and wants to play with it, (he's cute too, and clever) and my Burnout is a quick-tempered bad boy with many piercings and messy dyed hair, who tends to be abusive but thinks I'm hot (and a bad kisser and too bony to cuddle but we can work on that) and spends WAY too much time writing, when I should be learning how to kiss, or fight, or make him a pie, or JUST PUT DOWN THE LAPTOP AND GET OVER HERE. Sorta thing.

So, yes. I need to fully describe these gorgeous boys, sometime. My Muse is still hiding, the silly. If you do write up a description of your unholy trinity- (and please, do!)- tell me about it in the comments, or something. :D

In terms of writing, here's my wordcount;
  • Daily: 3,143
  • Overall: 44,939
YEAH, that's right, I finally hit my word count for the day! GO SNAZEL YOU ARE AWESOME. *cough*

I forgot to post this, but here's the wordle of my 40k mark! WHOOOOOOOO!!!!
(Why yes, I motivate myself with wordles. Why, is it that obvious?)

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

"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. :D I like Assasin, and I'm On Fire, and Half Of My Heart. A lot. *dances off*

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Distracting links and word count!

Read the Naomi Novik and Scott Westerfeld Chat.

This makes perfect sense right now.


Listen to this. Do it.


I'm Famous.

Much painfully later.... Wordcount:
  • Daily: 1,653
  • Overall: 40,566
I finally broke 40k. Yay... *weakly*

Monday, November 16, 2009

Word Count

We all know I failed, why bother to go into it? I've resorted to using poetry as word padding. ^_^

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Not as good as I was hoping, but not too bad.

  • Daily: 4,703
  • Overall: 38,292
I also watched Water Of Mars, which was slightly unwise as I'm now going to sleep alone. I really hope it doesn't rain.

Catching up for yesterday's fail.

Word Count:
  • Daily: 690
  • Overall: 33,616
Huh. That means, to be caught up by the end of today, I need to write over six thousand words. Huh. Imma go buy some black eyed peas, and get back to you, kay?

Oh, you want a reason why I failed? End of year party at work. I spent five hours on a bus and my laptop battery died after two hours, and then there was the party, meal and being social (gasp) and my roommate not wanting to be kept up by my halting typing at night. Well, I didn't ask her, but it would be kinda rude to do so. Also I'm a lightweight. Scratch that, featherweight. And sleeping seemed like a really good idea at the time. LOOK AT ALL MY EXCUSES AREN"T THEY PRETTY? (Yes, I live so far into the back of beyond that it requires a day on the bus and a night in a hotel to attend my work end of year party.)

Okay I'll go write now.
*shuffles off*

Friday, November 13, 2009

"Pour me a heady dose of atmosphere..."

Word Count;
  • Daily: 1,334
  • Overall: 32,917
Yes it was fail. Yes I'm out of town and internet and computer range for the weekend. Moving on. Fire is pretty. True story.

Have an excerpt that doesn't have to do with anything. YAY LAMENESS.
“I’m back!” Adam headed up the stairs to his room and started unpacking.

There was knock on his door. “Adam?”

“Come in, Mom.” He looked up from the backpack and smiled patiently at his mom. She finished wiping her hands on her apron and hugged him. She smelled of dish soap and whole wheat flour, as always.

“You have the best timing! I just put a pie in the oven!” She smiled at him as she took the bag away from him and started unpacking.

“No, mom, I can do that.” He tried to take the bag back.

“No, I’ve got to make sure you don’t have anything immoral in here.” She commenced busily unpacked clothing and laid it out on the bed. “How was your trip, dear?”

Adam flinched and went to hang up his jacket. He’d gotten rid of anything she wouldn’t approve of, he was pretty sure. Had he checked all the inner pockets? “Uh, great. I got the job? The travel was a bit long, but we made all our connections okay. “ Good thing he’d had the idea to check through the bag that had been packed for him. Mom would not have been happy to find the contraceptives.

“Where did you go?” She frowned at a band t-shirt. Darn, he hadn’t thought to check the clothes for content.

“Uh, I can’t tell you.”

She paused and looked at him. “What was that, Adam?”

Her son scratched at his hair and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, mom. We had to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

She stared at him. “Well, I never!”

Adam looked down. “Sorry, Mom. They deal in a lot of confidential information.”

His mother snatched the bag off the bed, along with the clothes he had already unpacked. “Well, I’m going to wash this. “ She left the room in a huff. “Dinner is in half an hour, and youth group is tonight, if you’re still interested!”

“Great! I am, Mom.” Adam called down the stairs, and then flopped onto his bed and groaned. “That went well,” he muttered under his breath.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

"For I am a Mystery, For I am a locked room.."

Word Count;
  • Daily: 2,051
  • Overall: 31,395
Not up to count. DO I CARE? NO. NO I DO NOT.

Though I do need to learn how to get inspired earlier in the day. Work tomorrow, and travel on the weekend. Yeeha!

In other news, I broke 30 k. *shy* So I get to put up a new wordle! *dances* Oh my, simple minds, simple pleasures. It's so true.

Laura is almost up to size with the others! That's cause Adam is trying so hard to ignore the hussy over there. *smirks* Ahem.

Does anyone want excerpts any more?

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Someone needs to take my credit card away from me. I keep buying music to procrastinate...

  • Daily: 3,537
  • Overall: 29,352
I'm at that stage where you don't like anything you're writing? You know that stage. Yeah. WE"VE ALL BEEN HERE!!!! Also I have a chest cold which freaks me out every time I cough. But if I just keep writing, soon I can set something on fire, right?

Also I realized that I keep trying to write flirty characters. I have no idea what that entails! What am I doing??!!??!


Fire tomorrow. Remember the fire.



My word count is shiny though. *loves it*


Tuesday, November 10, 2009


  • Daily: 965
  • Overall: 25,817
I don't really think I want to talk about it. In other news, Glee is entertaining. And sleep is good. MMmm, sleep.

Monday, November 9, 2009

But this police offer looked rather like the one at dispensed with that idea."

Word count;
  • Daily: 1,443
  • Overall: 24,582
So due to work, drama, and dance class, the only time I had to write today was in the car on the way to dance class. Because of laptop issues, I couldn't see what I was typing. This led to some. Rather. Interesting spelling. And Grammar. And a few instances where I already have no idea what I was going for. Here, have a sample. :D
Nanami recoiled and snatched her hand away. "Just checking to make sure you're still alive, eyebrow."

Ewan checked his eyebrow "No thinks to you."

were you evan paying attention? It IS thanks to me."

::what, you dragged ma long?"

:{;eas children, let's fight later?
" Larua milled and handed Briskly a pair of gloves to Nanami and Ethan. I know you are so in love, but please keep your lover's spats for other places? the police might get the wrong idea."

Ewan glared through out from under bruised eyes. "We are not lovers."

'ANd we won't be." Nanaoi interjected. in case Laura might get the wrong iead. "No plans for it."


Laura smiled again. She smstepped forward and up to the wicked. "Hello, I'd like to register a complaint? Mase she he doesn't pass out, kay, Nammy?"

"Nammy anand Ewan looked at eachother in mutual anger, and then standed and stared at Lura in mutual pretending the other person wasn't there.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Pay Attention To The Bumper Stickers

  • 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.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Soul successfully sold.

  • Daily: 4,729
  • Overall: 20,448
I wanna write more but my words are dead and my hands hurt and Rose is yelling at me on the internet to sleep. So I go.

I really love Ethan, and Ewan, and Nanami. The others, can go over THERE.

Okay I'm going now! *runs*

LATER: Okay I couldn't sleep. Too much tea. Here, have an excerpt that has nothing to do with anything, only it wants to become a story of its own.
The boy was wearing a top hat with a tuft of pheasant feathers stuck in the hatband, and a vertically striped waistcoat with a thin chain hooked into one of his button holes. “ I’m sure-” He stopped as the door behind him rattled, and turned around on the toe of his scuffed brown leather shoes to hold it up open. “Hey, Melinda.”

The girl who slipped through the door was dressed exactly the same way, only with red gloves and the addition of a small tray and cashbox at her waist. The money-changing setup was held in place with a leather belt and a thin black tie that went around her neck. “Hey, Paul.” She stepped across the aisle and leaned on the side of one of the benches for stability as she pulled a flip notebook out of her pocket. She smiled briskly at the mustached man on the bench. “Good day sir. Name?”

“Uh, Phillip of Wooster.” He was holding a battered metal helmet in his lap and had a bandage tucked neatly around his forehead. Nanami didn’t recognize his uniform, which was immaculate in every crease and mend.

Melinda nodded and made a mark in her notebook. She had leather bands right under her elbows. They closed with snaps and her sleeves where tucked out of them, away from any ink. “And where are you going today, Phillip?”

Phillip cleared his throat. “I’m connecting through Adelhied, heading for New KwaZulu? I’m carrying a letter for my major-” He stopped as Melinda held up a small hand. Her stubby fingers were ink-stained.

“Save it for the customs house, soldier. That’ll be five kroner.” She stowed away the coins that Phillip proffered and flicked the side of a ink stamp. “Right hand.”

Phillip held out his hand while Melinda flicked the stamp again. It was humming, and she scowled at it. “Behave, you second hand piece of third rate no patent ju- there you go!” She bashed the stamp on an red ink pad and marked Phillip’s right hand with a star in a circle. “Have a good trip, sir.” The girl stepped across the aisle and looked at Nanami. “Name?”

Nanami was now suddenly conscious that she didn’t know where she was going. “Um, Nanami Tajimi, miss? I don’t-”

Melinda smiled at her. “No worries, Miss. Your ticket is already paid for for. Left hand, please.” Nanami held out her left hand.

Melinda flicked a dial on the side of her stamp and muttered darkly at it under her breath. “I’m sorry about this, miss, It doesn’t usually take so long.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all.” Nanami smiled sheepishly. “I know what it’s like to have your equipment not co-operate.”

“Of course, miss.” Melinda looked at her out of the corner of her eye, almost too fast to be seen, and bashed the stamp on the back of the bench. “Ah, finally!” She dashed it against another ink pad and marked the back of Nanami’s left hand. This time the imprint was in green, of a sword crossing a pair of scaled. “Enjoy your trip, Miss.” She stepped down the aisle again, swaying her hips to keep her balance in the moving train. “Hands! If you’ve paid for your ticket, keep your hands up! You, madame, what is your name?”

Friday, November 6, 2009

"Things are not always, things are not always as they seem, will you be ready?"

  • Daily: 3,183
  • Overall: 15,765
I just found the perfect world-hopping song! And then it was late and I'm sick so I have to go to sleep. Greh. Oh well, there is always tomorrow! I shall write GOOD world-hopping in the morning!

Oh, and also, I got my face painted. I love it. :D

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Plz continue selling your soul for moar words.

  • Daily: 1,860
  • Overall: 12,641
I gave up at midnight and fell asleep. Sad, I know.

BUT IN OTHER NEWS- this is a lovely cover. :D I <3>

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Day Four!

  • 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. :D

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.
heh heheheheh
The future looks like fun. ^_^

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

"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!”

Monday, November 2, 2009

"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. :D

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.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Nanowrimo? Let's fight.

I was fangirling about the lovely outfit which one of my character has, and my sister Quadropod, BLESS HER, decided that the outfit sounded cool! So she decided to draw her! I squee! So here is Nanami, in her Alternate World/Steampunk regalia. I was/am happy.

I also am sick, and my cheekbones hurt, which is new. I think my wisdom teeth are coming in too. YAY.

Maybe the cheekbones are connected to the teeth? I hate the dentist. YAY.

I GET to go to the dentist! Maybe. Perhaps this is just congestion. *hopes*

And final word count for the day:
Too bad I couldn't pull out another 32 words, but... :D That gives me something to strive towards. I kinda wrote all the scenes that I had in my head already, too. So that's jolly. I think tomorrow I'll start a riot. And possibly police without Miranda Rights. Or should I keep them? I'm unsure. OOOOhhhh, I'll keep them, and the bad guys can ignore rights. :D That's a better plan. Fare Well, internets!


Word Count: 1771

Have a quote:
Ten minutes of milling later, she had managed to ascertain that this crowd seemed to have no limits, and also, as an added bonus, seemed to contain no one she knew. It did contain police on horseback though. She could see them above the crowd, directing people incomprehensibly. There was a scream to her right, “FIRE!” The crowd surged menacingly, suddenly becoming full of people taller and heavier than her. Nanami was sandwiched in between two large people, who seemed to not notice her presence as anything more than a minor irritant stopping them from betting six inches closer to their destination. She drove her elbow into the stomach of the man to her right. He made a huffing noise at her. It was safe to say, given his furious and desperate expression, that he would have said hurtful and cutting things, if he hadn’t just had the breath forcibly removed from his lungs. She drove her heel into the arch of his foot to make sure he wouldn’t comment further.

I set a Zeppelin on fire. MANY Zeppelins. *beams*
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Just the numbers, sir...