Yep, back in first-draftsville again. I finished edits to Torn, can’t do any more on my own, so that’s sitting and waiting to be called up to the major leagues (ie my editor’s computer, which is likely nicer than mine).
That leaves me free to desperately struggle to win NaNoWriMo. I only need 2,000(ish) words per day, but I’m going to lose a few days at the end of the month, so I really need to get my butt in gear.
I’ve re-written the first chapter of (working title) Sparrowhawk & Son and moved on through the second. I was going to do it in 3rd person, but this character’s voice is too strong for me to take the words out of her mouth. First-person it remains, and on we go. Cat is probably less like me than any character I’ve ever written. She’s hard, abrasive, cocky, sees no point in reading for entertainment, and admits to not being all that bright when it comes to school. Still, she’s got a great sense of humor and an interesting way of looking at things, and that should get us through.
Now to decide whether I need to throw another POV in there, or whether Cat can handle the story on her own.
For WIPpet Wednesday, here’s something I wrote yesterday. All first draft, of course. Cat (Catalen) is about to go on her first ride in… whatever I’m calling the private airships in this world. She’s from a polluted, poor town, and isn’t used to anything like this. If you read the now-unlinkable first draft of the first scene a while ago, you may remember that she slept with a rich guy she met at a club the night before, and he showed up in her machine shop this morning. She calls him Richie von Perfecteeth… That’s not his name. She doesn’t care.
WIPpet math: 18-(1+1)=16 sentences*
This thing is unbelievable. When I’ve gone to flicks at the Goshen Theatre, where they show hand-me-down films from the High City, I’ve assumed the characters’ surroundings were made up, or at least exaggerated. But this is real. Everything in here is so damn clean. Pale brown carpet covers the floor. Electric lights. White walls, white furniture—chair, sofa, painted tables. Holy shit, they have flowers in glass containers, like it’s nothing. Big purple ones. Cut, so they’re just going to die and need to be replaced. I want to go in and touch one, but I hang back in the doorway. Richie pushes past me.
“You can come in,” he says. “Nothing here’s going to bite you.”
I smile to myself and wonder whether he still has the bite mark I left on his shoulder last night. He catches that look, frowns, and turns away.
Yeah, Not-Richie is in trouble if anyone finds out about his little indiscretion. This should be fun.
For more snippets from works in progress by my WIPpeteer buddies, click here. Leave some comments, have some fun, see what’s on the go, jump in on your own blog if you’d like. Say hi to KL Schwengel, who hosts this shindig and needs to STOP MAKING ME THINK SHE’S GOING TO KILL OFF SOMEONE I LIKE.
Sorry for yelling. I get attached.
finish drafting book 3 of Bound trilogy finish self-edits on Torn, get ready to go to JE
- start something new and panic over trying to finish NaNoWriMo on time
If we could count editing hours this month like we can during Camp NaNo, I’d totally have won by now. But we can’t. I counted words I added to Torn during the editing process, but also took into account the ones I deleted, so that wasn’t a huge help overall. But it’s cool, I can still pull this off. Aiming for 4,000 words a day, just to be safe (and to account for silly things like days of spending time with my family. I know, right?).
Too bad there’s nothing I can do to make up for the hours I spend distracted from my work. If I actually spent all of my work hours working, I would be so much more productive than I am.
And as an official goal:
- read all WIPpet Wednesday posts
I pulled it off this week. Going to do it again.
For more ROW80, click here.
Thanks for stopping by!
*That’s right, I used brackets. BEDMAS, SUCKAS!