It Arrives (or, Better Late Than Never)

So this afternoon I finally plucked up the courage to open the very hidden, heretofore very unloved Word Document entitled “Wind in the Blood” that hidingly dwells in the hidden recesses of Charlie’s brain. This was, if you remember, my 2009 NaNo project. And you know…some very warm, writer-y memories came flooding back, and I actually found myself thinking, “Maybe I can edit this and have it be half decent. It’s not so bad.” And then I decided that I would make a point of editing it this year. In the meantime, here is the last page or so of the thing. My, how November causes writing deterioration near the end. I would like to remind us all that I wrote the last 9,000 words in about five hours, so I hope that will excuse me. Anywho, here it is, unedited.

————————-
“Peasure,” she said, the shot me a glance. “Even if braedon didn’t en up being some evil jerk, Richard is way better loking,” she said.

“I think I’ll go browse the book shop,” he said and left, smiling at me.

“So tel me!” she insisted.

“Well,” I began, but flinched. In the relfection of the bus, I’d seen someone. Another bus passed and this time I was sure. “Come on,” I said, pulln gher up. “We have to go.”

“What? Why?”

“This is big, Alexis, It’s going ato take long time to explain. But all I can say is tht Braedon’s right behid us and we have to go.”

I pulled her with me into the book store and we rushed through the isled, though not so fast that someone would become suspicious.

“This is so much more exciting than school.”

“Richard,” I said, grabbing him by the shoulder. He truend around, a questioning look in his eyes.

W”aht is it?”

“”It’s braedon. He’ here. I’m certain he saw us come in here and he was following us.”

Richard looked at Alexis. “IS he somcing?”

“Coming where?” She shrugged. “Actually, never mind. I’m coming.”

“Your parents,” I reminded her.

“Anarra, my parents are the colest people on the planet. You’re rich, I’m rich, Rchar’d rih, we’re free to do whatever. I’m coing with you. You’re my best friend. If I don’t watch your back, you’ll get kidnapped again.”

I sighed. “All right.” We followed Richard out of the main store and into a back hallway where they brought the boxes of stock. From there we hit the emergency exit door and ran out into the cool ight leaving Braedon and the store, and our potentially boring lives, behind us in the misty streets of London.

It Is Finished.

Well, dears, so it ends. It’s kind of an odd feeling, and I think we’re all going to have a kind of slump now that it’s over. No more chat room sessions, no more encouragement for and from Wrimos…in fact you may not see or talk to them again for a year. Unless you were insane and signed up for Script Frenzy, which I did (I have lost my mind, I really have).

If you’re doing something with your novel, like editing or even working towards publishing, please let me know! Personally, I hate my main character, so I might just keep this one in the archives of my trusty MacBook.

Congratulations to everyone who ENTERED this. Even that took some serious guts. We rock. We absolutely rock. And if you, like me, receive a half-hearted “congrats, now let’s move on with your lives” from the people around you, don’t fret. Remember that they love and support you and didn’t write a novel in a month, so they don’t quite know what to say, perhaps. Just know that you are absolutely ROCKING. Celebrate, take the day off, eat the rest of your NaNo candy (mine’s gone), or get back into routine. Whatever you do today, you are a superhero in the world of writing.

I’ll probably post more throughout the year, but not regularly. Excerpts will come in a few days, probably over the weekend. They’re quite awful, especially the last 8k:) I made so many typos that I’m not even sure I can read any of it.

And so, farewell. I’ll be back again for Script Frenzy, so if you’re doing that, let me know, and find me on the site (africanstardust)! Until then, au revoir.

Day 26

I just did a massive sprint and typed around 5k words in about two hours. My fingers hurt. And it’s late, and I have school tomorrow, plus a performance thingy. But I have time for a quick update. And yes, it did get much easier after 30,000 words. A lot a lot easier. In fact it was kind of shocking.

Word count: 40,377
Cups of coffee: To be safe, let’s say 70, give or take.
Feeling: exhausted and finger cramp-y
Number of freak outs: 3
Total solid meals eaten: what? me? are you asking me? *shuffled awkwardly* does chocolate count?
Procrastination: 20ish
Other: I’m starting to see the finish line. And I’m really, really, REALLY excited, almost as excited as I was when I started. Okay, not quite, but come on!! This is amazing!!! Go everyone who is doing this, because we flippin’ rock!!!

Incentive

Good morning, Wrimos! First of all, I apologize for the lack of vlogs. Next year I will be much more…you know…here. But anyway. For those who, like me, are perhaps a bit behind on the word count, I thought I would remind us all that there’s a HUGE incentive. Reward. Thing. For those of us that reach the 50k mark.

Drrruumrrroollll…

Literature and Latte (click to visit) is offering a 50% discount on their amazing and worthy of much adoration writing software, called Scrivener. If you don’t know what that is, go to the website RIGHT NOW and check it out. Even if you’re not a full time writer, this program will make things ever so much easier. Outlines, character sheets, pictures, snippets, quotes, research, chapters, and everything you could possibly use while working on a project is right there, on the easy to use interface. I’ll let you peruse the site yourself, though. But anyway, this brings the price down to $20, which is more or less the price of a tasty salad, steak, drink, and dessert. Or a movie and popcorn and a drink. Either way, why not invest this very minuscule amount on something you’ll use for many NaNos to come. And, the best part is, it’s a household license, so if there’s more than one writer in your family, why not split the cost between you? A measly $10 or $20.

But, you have to make the 50k mark:) So get off the internet and get writing!!! *slaps hand*

Day 23: November 23

Sooooo…I’m now 13,000 words behind. That translates into roughly 8 days of writing. And I have 6 days left. *laughs hysterically* *chews on hair* Anyway, since I have no exciting or inspiring things to say (I’m all out), I thought I’d post a horrible excerpt to show you exactly how my writing has deteriorated in the past three weeks. It’s freeing, depressing, and hilarious all at the same time. And mysterious! Will my skill return? Has my inner editor died or is she just quiet? Will she hate me? Will she ever cooperate again? Quick, Frederickson and Elizabeth (my muses)!!! Give her water!! We need her, come December! We only have six days to revive her!

Here are the excerpts. They’re from different parts of the story, obviously.

First:
I woke on my own a few hours later. Richard sat with his arms resting on his pulled-up knees, staring at the flames. I crept quietly until I sat beside him, and touched his shoulder. Startled, he trned his face towards me and inhaled sharply.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “You can sleep now.”
He rolled his eyes at his own jumpiness and nodded his thanks, falling asleep beside Telltale almost instantly. I placed another piece of wood on the fire and watched sparks swirl in the air. Suddenly an alien dropped out of the sky and transported us to the next morning, where things were less boring and there weren’t any more premature romantic foreshadowings.

Second: (note the typos)
“He shrugege.d “If we ride while the sun is up and do’t stop for lunch – “ at this my stomach protested – “and if we go at agood pace, it should take about seven days.”
My eyes widened, and now my rear began to ache in anticipation. “Seven days?”
He looked at me sympathetically. “I know it’s bad if you’re not used to it” he said. “But trust me, by t=day three, you’ll be used to it.”
I watched as he stuck thwo twigs through each fish, which was about the length of a hand from pulse to finger tip, and he handed me one. We placed them over the fire, the fish butterflied and laying with their scales facing down, toward the fire.
“Where are yous siters?” I asked him.
“The youngest is fifteen, and she’s at the palace. She has magic, so ELizabth is teaching her to control it properlu. She has a bit of a temper,” he added with a smile. “Her name is Granolinne. The next one, Serusel, is a guard in the kingdom of Drahmas. You might know the people who live there better as vampires,” he added with a grin. “But they’re not blood suckers. They have silver eyes with pupils like cats, and they have fangs. She’s eighteen. Then there’s her twin, Farael. She’s an earthscout, like me. She’s in India.”

Third:
It occurred to me, as I fell into pace, that I was doing an incredibly idiotic thing.
The contents of my backpack consisted of a history textbook, Their Eyes Were Watching God, my pencil case, a large, three-subject spiral notebook, a water bottle, and A SUPER AMAZING SURVIVAL KIT WITH FOOD AND STUFF.
I stopped and looked up at the authoress. “What?”
“Right,” the authoress replied. “Sorry. Continue.”
“Now that you’ve broken the fourth wall, you can stop obsessing over not breaking the fourth wall.”
“I know, I’m excited,” the authoress said. “Now I’ll continue writing where we last left off.”
In books and movies, characters who do these things always have some sort of survival kit with food and a flashlight that they just “happened” to carry around with them. I, however, was a normal person not in a book, don’t even think about breaking the fourth wall again, and all I had were school supplies. At least I had a half-full watter bottle, but Alexis was right: I had no food.

Fourth:
I slowed my pace, trying to breathe deeply despite the pain that was shooting through my ribs and lungs. I wheezed loudly and grasped my stomach, praying I wouldn’t pass out. Especially since Write Or Die sessions are unbelievably intense and should not be done except in absolute emergencies. There goes that fourth wall again. Who needs it anyway.
“Excuse me, but I’m kind of dying here,” I reminded the authoress, who was very relieved to have just passes her word goal.
“Sorry. This fourth wall thing is so distracting,” she said. “Moving on.”
I continued at a fairly quick pace through the forest, but more or less decided I didn’t have to run. Besides, I was going in a different direction than they were. I was probably already way out of their line of search…ing. Searching? Or search? Does that make sense?
“Argh!” said the authoress. “Sorry! Continuing as if nothing has happened.”