OH, GENTLY CARESS.

GENTLY CARESS, AM I BEHIND OR WHAT?

(Expletives Bowdlerized for your amusement today).

I stopped to do a word count last night and got a good look at the par numbers, and before I could do anything else I’d dropped a nice-sized “OH, GENTLY CARESS ME” bomb, staring at a deficit of ABOUT 12K WORDS.

I didn’t even have to think too hard about what the gently caress had happened since I already knew—it was the gawrsh-danged neuropathy, making it too hard to move or type on several days. So many behind days.

And then there’s work. We finally get hours out of nowhere and it’s like a gauntlet, and I have absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to deal with this level of exertion at the same time that my own dang body is trying to send me to heck in a bicycle basket.

So I’m buckling down for a WORD SPRINT today.

…as long as nothing goes wrong, such as dropping another gently caressing glass of coconut milk on the computer…

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MEANWHILE, IN NANOWRIMO…

We are halfway through the month, and I am less than halfway through where I should be at this rate. I have fallen behind, thanks in no small part to the machinations of my peripheral neuropathy dealing incredible damage to my hands. But I’ve begun to see if I can get the catching up part of this done. I’m making a point of it to NOT have my word count total visible, as when I actually LOOK at the totals, I start to freak out. As of this writing right here…I have no idea how I am doing.

 

And now, back to the grind. I REALLY want to make it Four Times.

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It’s over =D …Well, sort of, anyway.

I’m sitting here on the edge of my bed, glasses off, and half blind. Food is starting to make me feel sick as a dog, but that is because the only caffeine I have taken since validating my word count was the caffeine that woke me up from my ill stupor earlier—a head-cold has had me groggy, sick to my guts, and woozy most of the day. I don’t plan on taking more caffeine besides what’s in my medications and vitamins.

I’m reading a book that I downloaded from the Nook store almost immediately after finishing the validation count. It’s kind of a bookend moment—it’s the second book in the series that was the last thing I read for pleasure before the competition started. (In fact, here’s my review of that one.)

It feels good to be reading again, feeling the squee at the moments where I really notice how many scantily-clad pretty boys there are, the heat of the romance (surprisingly, in a het pairing), and the laugh-out-loud moments that are liberally sprinkled through Heroine Protagonist Rae Wilder’s journey.

I feel so good reading and I stop to think, then, that I hope that my own writing has the same effects on some readers out there. I know that there will invariably be the “I HATED THIS AND DIDN’T EVEN FINISH IT” sorts, but I know that there will be other readers who react as enthusiastically as I am now to this book that I am reading now.


I…am going to have one HELL of a time adjusting to the sudden reduction in caffeine intake. I spent most of this November neck-deep in either a bottle of energy drink (most of it Sodastream, half a litre at a time [?!]), an espresso, a restaurant coffee drink, or in a few cases a bottle of caffeine pills, violently throwing my way shoulders through in the long stretch of time that the ink was flying around. Several times I thought that I wouldn’t make it—there wasn’t enough time, there weren’t enough words, there wasn’t enough CAFFEINE—and then, working on a fight scene, validating the count after every few paragraphs…I win.

I make it.

I didn’t want to put my hands to a keyboard for the next few months. I didn’t even want to celebrate my victory—premature as it is, the story isn’t done, not by a long shot—and I didn’t want to look at WORDS.

…then I realized that I could read. I could read for fun.

Like everyone else.

I’m going to resume reading now, probably put together a bottle of plain seltzer because the caffeine withdrawal nausea is HELL right now…but diving into a story that another writer put together, pouring her effort, time, frustrations, and joy into it…I remember why I want to do this in the first place.

 

I’m going back to my reading, icing my aching head.

I can keep writing AFTER the caffeine withdrawal wears off.

Again asking how Nano's going?

Well, her we are at another Weekend Checkin for Nanowrimo. How’s things going, you ask?

 

I’LL TELL YA HOW’S THINGS GOING.

 

I got to the point where the momentum seemed to swing to a clear stop. Shit started to hit the fan, and there was a nice tension, the kind of tension that builds when you’re reading a well-crafted love scene (just me?) and you that things can only go one way, and…wall. BIG FRAKING WALL.

 

I actually turned around and rejiggered the index cards, and I found the solution.

 

TL;DR version? For the sake of narrative flow and such, at least for Zero Draft, Lollipop Bite has become TWO volumes.

 

And the Louis patriarch? Cedric? Is not amused. A woman who works for him, a lady we know only as Wilkes so far, is…

 

Ohhh, man.

 

I don’t know if Lightning is this much of a deadpan snarker. Now granted, it’s a sort of foil that Cedric needs, since the entire Louis family tends to be kind of pie in the sky about things (Mmm, pie), and since things are getting DEADLY SERIOUS—but still.

 

I gotta bounce. Only 11k words left, and I need to sleep at some point.

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How's Nanowrimo going, you ask?

Sharon thought that the afternoon was complete: her homework done, errands run, a tall green tea in one hand. Notebooks sat on the outside patio table in a neat stack, and next to them were other books, mostly comics of various origin.

A crashing sound a few yards to the northwest got her attention—a crashing sound that was soon followed by a lot of cursing, Curious, she set her tea down and jogged in the direction of all the noise. The majority stopped rather quickly, however, ending with one loud, final-sounding thud.

“What in the…?”

The only sign that anything had happened were the bricks near one of the juniper shrubs. She looked at those bricks for a long time before checking the shrubbery.

It took her a while to realize that not all of the green in that shrub was shrubbery. A very familiar shock of green hair blended in quite well with the juniper debris.

“Holy—Lowell?”

 

 

Lowell isn’t having the best day right now. LOL

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How's NaNo Going, you ask?

Well, it’s going well for me. Lowell, on the other hand, is NOT amused:

 

   

Lowell’s pace was significantly slower than that of his brother. Whenever he had the chance to be outside on his own for any extended period of time, Lowell took his time. He would walk at the slowest pace that he could stand, and he would take the time to look at everything that he could see. The half-beast took nothing in his small sphere for granted, since he never knew when he would have the chance to be on his own again.

It really is a nice day out today, he thought as he walked. He took a deep breath: though there was the always-present oily haze to the air that marked the place as a city, he could still smell the ground underneath his feet, the plants in the carefully preserved nature trail, the faint but sweet fragrance of some wild plant blooming in the distance.

For this reason, Lowell was torn—he didn’t know whether to love autumn, or to hate it. The air was always so crisp during that season—fresher, cleaner…but it was also when things began to wind down, to end, to fade away.

Like nature’s flipping me the finger, thought Lowell bitterly. He’d barely had the chance to really enjoy the season before it started to fade out, and—

When the warning came, it was a combination of a change in the pressure and an actual sound, felt deep inside the middle of his ear. Lowell jumped out of the way just in time to avoid a long, notched dart’s sharp point shearing through his foot. Instead, the thing landed harmlessly in the dirt of the path, skittering as it bounced off the ground. Almost before he knew he was doing it, Lowell’s head whipped around, his eyes coming to rest in a patch of greenery off to the side of the trail.

Oh, shit.

 

Keep in mind that this is a zero draft! …but also if you want to tell me what you think so far, feel free to. Sometimes, us inkslinging types need a little scritch behind the ears, just like our kittens do.

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