"All books are either dreams or swords." |
The weekend progress I've made so far has gotten my over the 10,000 word hump. I'm still writing and have over four hours until midnight my time so I could definitely get further still with my goal. Its not 30,000 words (let's face it - that was a huge pipe dream) but its a jumping off point. I'm in this until the end, even if it means I don't make it to 50,000 words by next Tuesday. My writing has focused on the hard parts so far. There is no linear movement here, more like me jumping from scene to scene when the moment strikes. This way of writing in weird as I have to remember where I left off, and how long the scene went to keep track of my numbers. Still, somehow this makes sense in my head. I killed off someone in the first few paragraphs of the story. By the end of the third chapter person number two is dead. An even bigger stack of people will be biting the big one as well. I remember reading something from one of my go-to authors' blogs that when you get stuck, kill someone off. At first I thought that was a crack pot idea, but now I'm taking it to heart. To help me, energy wise, I've been alternating drinking coffee and some powder drink mix called EmergenC, which contains about a 1,000 mg of Vitamin C per packet. I feel like there are microscopic light bulbs flashing on and off through my veins. And yes, it feels just that weird. I'm not sure this will help me in the long run, but its working at the moment. I figured I would give the one reader of this blog a sample of my NaNo, since they've been kind enough to read throughout the year. This is from the very beginning of the story: They will understand soon, he thought as he placed the picture back in front of him. He took his glasses off, folding them neatly, and set them beside his letter. They’ll see why all this had to happen the way it did. The gun glinted dull silver in the lamp light. His gaze never wavered, the clarity of the moment the first he had been gifted in such a long time. With a deep breath, Martin inhaled the scent of his wife one more time, and pulled the trigger. |