Bah. I think it’s obvious what happened to my word count tonight. Frelling television is what happeened. Grr. Still, I got another 775 words written tonight. I swear, I’m going to kick ass next week when I am living by myself. Cereal for supper every night and no chores except…
Words today: 1337 Not bad. It’s still 1663 short of my aspiration, but that’s okay. I’m counting this as November 5’s words, even though it’s officially November 6 now. I got my second wind sometime around midnight, and just kept writing. I spent much of a pointless meeting today plotting…
Okay, here it is, twenty till midnight, and I’ve written not a single word in the NaNovel today. I suck. On the other hand, talked with slightlyjillian for an hour and half, mostly about the novel it took me twelve years to write, and I have a lot of exciting…
I decided the med student was going to be a man instead of a woman. Hence, Cedric, the lovable Trickster who has nicknamed everyone, and will soon nickname Zeva as well. Okay, I am going to go collapse now.
I should be writing. Yet, even though I am enjoying the NaNo challenge, I am still procrastinating. Why do I do this? Why? Why do I procrastinate on the fun things as well as the horrid things? And why haven’t I taken the trash out yet?
Okay, I know I’m getting off to a slow start. That might have something to do with the fact that I had plans for the entire day yesterday, and better than half the day today. But I’ve got the first scene of chapter one written.
Ehhh. I am falling asleep at my computer. I think it’s time to pack itt in. Of course, I managed to spend a great deal more time than I should have, looking through an old journal for ideas. I found ideas, but still. Here’s the prologue:
Taken from sparkyred.
Poppy Dannert – 32 (?) has brown hair, hazel eyes, freckles totally grossed out by people who don’t wash their hands after going to the bathroom–and makes a habit of embarrassing said people Hears music from nowhere (somewhere in one of my idea files I have this story idea scribbled…
Here are some of the players on my stage: Fithian Rankin – 35, nicknamed Fith scion of a wealthy family (wealth comes from where?) angry about the death of his mother 19 years ago why did she die? unnatural/mysterious death curse? dark magic? dabbles with Internet consulting of some sort…
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