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Nov. 29th, 2009 01:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zanzjanMiledrop
61,317 / 110,000 words (56%)
NaNoCheaMo total: 30,271
[44,384 words revised (1/3 credit) + 16,933 new words]
0 words on Turkeyday, about 900 yesterday, and about 2650 today.
Yeah, not much chance at all of hitting 50k by the end of Monday night. Oh well. I've gotten a lot of writing done, and I intend to keep going even after the month ends. The goal is not so much to have 50k of just-any-old-words, but to have 110k of words-that-I-can-work-with.
It's so much easier getting into the groove when I'm writing from the PoV of my favorite bad guy. He's just such a phenomenal asshole that he's unbelievable fun. I suppose that says bad things about me.
Excerpt:
Y'know, it's okay to tell me you hate it, or don't hate it, or something.
NaNoCheaMo total: 30,271
[44,384 words revised (1/3 credit) + 16,933 new words]
0 words on Turkeyday, about 900 yesterday, and about 2650 today.
Yeah, not much chance at all of hitting 50k by the end of Monday night. Oh well. I've gotten a lot of writing done, and I intend to keep going even after the month ends. The goal is not so much to have 50k of just-any-old-words, but to have 110k of words-that-I-can-work-with.
It's so much easier getting into the groove when I'm writing from the PoV of my favorite bad guy. He's just such a phenomenal asshole that he's unbelievable fun. I suppose that says bad things about me.
Excerpt:
| Larr walked into the mess tent in time to see Stackley sitting atop Biron, one hand clutched around the scientist's throat, as the scientist repeatedly smashed a ceramic mug into the side of Stackley's head. Whatever argument they'd begun the fight with had degenerated into animal-like grunts and growls. It wasn't until he crouched down beside them that either noticed he was there. They both froze, mid-tableau, and stared at him. Blood trickled down Stackley's face, sweat from Biron's, the only movement in the room. "Your grip is all wrong," Larr said, gesturing at Stackley's hand on Biron's neck. "You can't honestly expect him to stop breathing with that pathetic amount of pressure, unless he does it purely to humor you." As Stackley's fingers twitched, starting to release, Larr leaned in and plucked the mug out of Biron's fingers. "And you," he said, "this man's trying to choke you, and you're giving him little love-taps? I have to admit, I'm starting to become convinced that you two secretly like each other. Watch and learn, Biron." He tossed the mug lightly in the palm of his hand, so that when he caught it again he was holding it by the base rather than the handle, and then he smashed it into Stackley's face. The man let out a choking howl and fell back off the scientist, both hands covering a nose now producing its own small gush of blood. "Do you see the difference in method, Dr. Biron?" Larr asked. The scientist nodded dumbly, and when Larr stood and offered him a hand up the man hesitated for too long. "Tsk," Larr said. "Gratitude." |
Y'know, it's okay to tell me you hate it, or don't hate it, or something.
