Friday, July 30, 2010

Flashback Friday

That writing exercise is still giving me trouble, so instead, here's another installment of Flashback Friday!

Today's excerpt is from a mystery short story I wrote for Communication Arts class in seventh grade entitled The Case of the Missing Dogs. And... I still can't write mysteries, LOL.

Chrissy Carlson was driving past the Humane Society on her way home from the store when she saw red and blue police lights flashing in the morning sun. She pulled into the driveway and almost ran into a small building that hadn’t been there the last time she’d visited the Society.

Chrissy stopped to talk to a policeman.

“What happened here?” she inquired.

The policeman glared at her with sharp, steely blue eyes. “Who wants to know?” he asked. “I’m not givin’ out any information to nosy spectators!”

Chrissy was furious. “I’m not a spectator!” she began. “I’m a detec…” But the policeman had turned his back on her, writing on a notepad.

Fuming, Chrissy walked into the large white building that was the Humane Society. She walked up to the desk and found Aliya Wilson, typing away at her computer.

“What happened, Aliya?” Chrissy asked for the second time.

Aliya sighed.

“Three dogs were stolen last night. It was almost four, but Nero got away. He ran to my house and barked at the door until I let him in.”

“Which dogs were stolen?” Chrissy asked, immediately drawn into the mystery.

“Daisy, the Yorkie, Roscoe, the Dalmatian, and Scottie, the Scottish Terrier. And like I said, it was almost Nero, too, but her got away.”

Chrissy was confused. “And he ran to your house?” she asked incredulously. “You don’t even live in town!”

Aliya looked surprised. “Oh, but I must have told you I moved onto the grounds. It’s that small building near the entrance to the driveway.”

“No, you didn’t.” Chrissy said. “I almost flattened it with my car!”

Aliya looked out the window and said thoughtfully, “It is in a bit of an awkward spot, isn’t it?”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Oh, no, it’s quite convenient. I’m going to go and have a word with Juliet. Bye.”

As Chrissy started down the long hall toward Juliet’s office, she noticed that none of the cops were inside. Then she passed a small room with a picture window and saw Juliet Wyman inside, training a dog.

Seeing that her friend was busy, Chrissy headed down toward the dog room, thinking Nero might be able to lead her to some clues. When she entered, she walked down the rows of cages until she came to one that read, Nero; German Shepard.

Chrissy opened the cage and then took a brush from the shelf. As she brushed the big dog, she looked closely at his fur, looking for clues. When she stood up to empty the brush, she noticed a spot of blue in Nero’s dark hair. She emptied all of the brush into the trash can except for the clot of fur with the blue spot in it.

Looking closely at it, Chrissy picked at the hair until the blue spot came free.

“Whose is this, boy?” she asked Nero, as if he could answer her.

Chrissy stuck the bit of cloth into her jeans pocket, gave Nero one last pat and put him back into his cage. After making sure the lock was secure, she went out to see Juliet.

Juliet, a busy person with very long, brown hair came out into the hallway.

“Sorry I couldn’t talk to you before, Chrissy, but I was training.”

“That’s okay,” Chrissy replied. “I had some other stuff to do anyway. I was brushing Nero. Look what I found!” Chrissy presented the scrap of mangled cloth with a flourish.

Juliet only seemed mildly interested. “Oh,” was all she said. Then, very suddenly, she looked straight at Chrissy and said sharply, “In case you’re getting any ideas, Chrissy, I was at PetsMart, getting supplies for today.”

“Chill, Juliet, I wasn’t blaming you. I just can’t ask one person and not another. Anyway, I know you’d never do anything like that. I have to go… um… Ask Henry some questions. See ya later.” Chrissy waved as she started down the hall.

Juliet stared after her then yelled, “And I was wearing green yesterday!”

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Not My Awesomeness, But Still Awesome

I had planned to post the completed version of a writing exercise tonight, but it's giving me more trouble than I thought. Hopefully I can finish tonight and post tomorrow. But I do have something to share.

I've mentioned before that one of my favorite authors is Libba Bray. She recently won the Printz Award for her newest book, Going Bovine. I've been hearing how amazing her speech was when she got the award, but I kept forgetting to look it up and watch. Well, I did it today. I thought I'd just play it as some background noise to listen to while I cleaned my room... but I kept being drawn into it, and finally, I just sat down on my floor and watched. I laughed a lot. She's a funny, funny woman. And I also cried a lot. Libba Bray is a freaking rock star.

Here's the link to a video of her speech. Watch it.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

WIP Wednesday

I'm not really sure how I feel about posting this, but I'm going to do it anyway. This is an excerpt from a story I began after reading its synopsis in the Adopt a Plot section of the NaNoWriMo boards. I never really had any big plans for it, which was good since shortly after I expressed interest in it, I was basically handed a cease-and-desist order in way of NaNo mail. Someone had gotten it before me.

As it turns out, what I wrote as a result of the plot suggestion wasn't really that great (as you'll see), but it was a cool idea anyway. So here ya go.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Elizabeth says, and closes the folder with a sigh. I sit in the straight – backed chair on the other side of her desk and say nothing. The silence stretches between us until finally I have to break it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, staring hard at the folder – my file – on the desk. “I didn’t mean – it just wasn’t working out.”

Elizabeth rubs a hand over her face. “But Claire, this is the sixth time it hasn’t ‘worked out’. I just don’t get how none of these families were a good fit for you.”

“I’m trying, Elizabeth,” I say as earnestly as I can. I haven’t actually been trying all that hard, but I really hate to disappoint Elizabeth. She’s my social worker and the closest thing to family I have these days.

“I’d like to think you are, Claire, but your file shows otherwise. I understand that it isn’t easy, being in your position, but there are thousands of children in the same exact place and somehow they’re able to make it work. The Ambersons were a good family – what happened?”

“They just...” I begin, but I have to stop because I don’t have anything to say. Elizabeth’s right- the Ambersons were a good family. But they weren’t my family, and by that, I mean the family I can see myself living with until I graduate. I look up at my social worker and my best friend. “I’m not doing this on purpose. I know you try really hard to find me good homes and I really want to like them. But no matter where I go, I just – I don’t fit in.” I look down at my hands resting in my lap. “They’re all nice, but I can tell that they would be happier without me there.”

“Claire Medina! That is not true!” Elizabeth sounds shocked at what I’ve said.

“Isn’t there some way I can just live on my own?” I ask. “I’m almost eighteen, and you know I can take care of myself.”

Elizabeth gives me a long – suffering look. “You’re not almost eighteen, Claire. You just turned sixteen in March, which was only a month ago. We’ve had this discussion before – you have to live with a family at least until you’ve graduated, and then we can talk about the options available.” She takes in the look on my face. “Believe me, Claire, I know you could look after yourself, but my hands are tied. I’m going to try to find you another family as quickly as possible, but for tonight, you can stay at my place.”

At this news, my heart immediately leaps. When things went downhill with the Hollidays three years ago, Elizabeth had let me bunk at her house until another family was found for me and after that, whenever things didn’t work out, I always stayed there. It was almost worth failing again and again to get to spend time there.

Elizabeth tells me to gather my things and wait in the lobby until she’s finished. I leave her office and flop into a chair next to my suitcase and purse, which are taking up another seat. I take a magazine from the table beside me and flip through it without reading a word. Finally, Elizabeth comes out of her office and locks the door behind her.

“Let’s go,” she says, and we leave the building and cross the parking lot to her car. We’ve driven about ten minutes in silence when Elizabeth suddenly speaks. “Claire, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

I jerk my eyes from the window and turned to stare at her. “What?”

Elizabeth keeps her eyes on the road, but I don’t miss a single word. “I know you’ve had trouble working with the families you’ve been placed with, but don’t start thinking that it’s because of you. It’s true that you have to work to make a life with anyone, but it’s a team effort, and sometimes, people just don’t mesh.” She takes her eyes from the road for a second and smiles at me. “You’re a good kid. You’re smart, and your instincts are usually dead – on. Don’t forget that.”

Monday, July 26, 2010

Trying It Out

Remember about a month ago I was talking about how much I wanted to make an outline wall like Maureen Johnson's? One like this?


And since making this about two and a half weeks ago, I discovered something: this doesn't work for me. I thought it just hadn't worked because I'd never actually started and finished one before, but... this has been up on my wall since I made it and seriously, I've used it once, that time that I stared so long at my novel that it turned to one blurry mess and I needed to be reminded what the plot was. But before or since then? Not a glance.


Guess I'll have to go back to my own ways...

(P.S. I am still thinking constantly about the fact that my friend is reading over my book. It makes me incredibly nervous every time.)

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

WIP Wednesday

I'm going to do something today that I don't think I've ever really done on this blog before- give you my current "final" copy of something. Though there is still a lot of work to be done on the following snippet, it's part of draft three of Remembrance, which, as of yesterday afternoon is the final product until I get my edits back.

Speaking of edits, since sending out my current draft of the novel to my friend, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I'm nervous. Really, really nervous. Because I know that he'll tell me whether it's good or not. And while I want that- ahhhh!

So anyway, enough of my rambling. Here's today WIP.

For two weeks, life went on as usual, which struck Ruthie as absurd. How could they all manage to forget what had begun just days before? How could they forget that every second, their lives were at risk?

She wondered, and yet she did it, too. She talked and laughed with Nora and Annie. She teased her brother. She complained about small things like homework and chores when people were making much greater sacrifices not so far away. And when she swore she saw Jimmy in the library and the soda shop and grocer’s, she told herself that it was just her imagination and looked in the other direction.

As much as everyone managed to return to their normal lives, however, there were reminders of the losses that had already been suffered all over the city. The buildings that had been hit were still in shambles. Ruthie overheard someone on the street say it could take months to clean up the wreckage, and that was only if no other buildings fell victim to the Germans. The air raid drills were constant and could happen at any moment. People were now using the underground as a make - shift shelter and sometimes, the people waiting down there had to sleep in the station overnight. Each time she walked home or to school or to the store or the cinema, Ruthie prayed that she would not have to run down to the tube station and take cover.

There were also the posters. Since the bombing, missing persons posters had gone up all over the city, tied to telephone poles and tree trunks, pinned to bulletin boards. Some had even been shoved through the Halperts’ mail slot so that when one of the family entered, they would see someone’s black and white photograph staring up at them from the floor. Ruthie always studied these blurry pictures closely. If she saw one of these people on the streets, she wanted to be able to recognize them. She did not know what she would do if this did happen one day – certainly shouting, “I found you!” or chasing after them would do no one any good. But this was a dilemma she had not yet faced. Though she tried to look at every face she passed, none of them matched those lost people in the pictures. She looked especially hard for Jimmy and Arthur Henderson. Her heart hurt every time she passed one of their flyers, with “HAVE YOU SEEN THESE CHILDREN?” written in large letters above the brothers’ smiling school photographs.

It was the pictures themselves that made the posters so upsetting. While the word ‘missing’ reminded one that that person was no longer at school or at work or sitting at the dinner table with their family, Ruthie was haunted by the grins, smirks, and shy smiles that looked out at her from the paper. When she looked at those faces, she remembered that these were past events – this person, this parent, child, brother, aunt, might not be smiling like that anymore. Whenever these thoughts came over Ruthie, she could not help picturing those people with scared expressions. What must they be feeling now? Or were they not feeling at all?

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The End of the Road... Or Rather, Stopping At a Corner

As of 12 pm this afternoon, I finished editing my novel.

I couldn't believe it. It felt like the end of something.

Of course, as my entry title states, it's less the end of a road than reaching a corner and stopping for a bit of a rest. There is a LOT more left to do with this novel, and I'm equal parts scared and excited about it. I still love the story, and I guess that's a good thing.

As for statistics of what changed since draft one of Remembrance:

-1 more-minor major character was deleted, since she turned out to be not-so-major.
-2 minor characters were added.
-3 huge scene were deleted.
-5 more (about) were added.
-3,000 words (about) were deleted.
-10,000 words were added.
-What seemed like 1,000,000 small changes were made.


I sent it off to my friend for another round of editing. I'm terrified, mostly because he knows me very well and this novel is... not always what people think of me. We'll see.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Doing What You Love

This has become sort of my motto for the past few years. A few of my friends are or hav been waffling on their majors at their respective schools and when I get questions from them like, "Should I stick with pre-law or change to music?" I always tell them to do what they love.

Of course, my advice probably isn't the best- I'm a priveleged twenty year old who, honestly, has still never dealt with the real world on her own for an extended period of time, who thought it would be a good idea to add a writing minor to her acting major. Stability is sooo overrated :p

But despite all of those facts, it's still what I heartily believe. I can't imagine going through life not doing something I love. How do people get through their day like that? I know the reality of my chosen profession(s) is that most likely, I'll have to do something else in order to do afford doing what I love, but still... can't I love those backup jobs, too? My mom and I were driving somewhere the other day and she said, "I think this summer has turned out pretty much the way you wanted it to, hasn't it?" And I had just been thinking that. I had applied for a pretty awesome job as a counselor at a professional theatre camp... and didn't get it. But then I got my job at the caverns which, while not related to acting, I still enjoy. And taking that job allowed me to audition for and accept the role of Portia, not to mention the role I just got last week at a different theatre. Sometimes things just work out- no, I'm not getting paid to act, but I am getting paid to tell stories and work on my projection and THEN get out early enough from said job to do what I really want to do. So this is a good thing.

Ha... this entry didn't have much to do with writing (except that I love writing also.) I will tell you, however, that I've jumped back into my novel revisions, and they are kicking my butt. In a good way- I'm getting a lot of stuff done on it. Previously, I've been too scared to go through the novel in order; I'd just tackle pieces that had been brought to my attention. But then I realised that, well, a novel is a complete story and only working on bits here and there would not really improve it overall. So I took a deep breath, scrolled up to page one, and started there. And actually, it's not as bad as I thought and it is helping me see things from an... in-order perspective :p I'm almost halfway through now and hopefully I'll be on time with sending it off for another editing spree by the end of the month.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Taking a Step Back

I've written in previous entries how well my revision has been going, and I've gotten a lot more done since then- a few more new scenes, more conventional changes, more realistic dialogue rather than some of the "I-am-seriously-reaching-for-a-higher-wordcount-here" conversations.

But yesterday, I hit a rough patch. It wasn't a wall, or even really writer's block. But I felt like he entire novel was blurring before my eyes, not allowing me to see what needed to be changed or fixed anymore.

Another thing is that I'm still learning as a writer is how to throw things away. I hold on to what I've written so tightly that I'm often unwilling to cut it out or edit it too drastically. I've gotten much better with this novel, perhaps because I know how much work it needs and/or because I had an outside editor. In yesterday's case, I wanted to add a scene I had written a few weeks ago, that I had really begun to like- there was some logic in it that was missing from the novel thus far and I liked the ideas it exercised. When I first wrote it, I wasn't sure where to put it and so kept it in a separate document and worked on the rest of the novel. These past few writing days have been spent working on the suggestions given to me by my "editor", to the point where I went to go put that separately written scene in... and it didn't fit anymore. I was quite disappointed, but there doesn't seem to be a way to include the scene that I've grown to love. *sigh* Sometimes you have to kill your babies, as we used to say at school.

So since my novel was giving me some trouble, I gave a bit longer and then decided to take a step away from it for a bit. I didn't stop writing, though- I finally returned to my Peter Pan inspiration and wrote part of a scene as well as a partial scene breakdown. I am beginning to fall back in love with this idea, which I've missed working on since May. I really do love writing :)

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

WIP Wednesday

So today you get an excerpt of something I started about three years ago. It's a screenplay based off of a monologue I did during a haunted tour. My character, Catherine was happily engaged to a man and not too long before their wedding, they boarded a trolley to take them across town. The trolley crashed, killing her fiance and leaving Catherine as one of the only survivors. She ends up marrying someone else out of duty (it was the 1800s, after all), and though the man is kind to her, they hardly even ever speak. In addition to that, due to the accident, Catherine can't have any children. She spends her remarkably long life wishing she was with the fiance she loved.

I loved this monologue (though I hated myself doing it) and I wrote a lot of the screenplay branching off of the basics given in the monologue. I changed a few things- Catherine became Caroline and I changed a few of the other names, as well as bumping up the time period a bit. But I remained true to most of the story, and I did a lot of crying as I wrote it. So here, untouched for several years, is a scene that takes place after Caroline agrees to marry her obligation guy.


Minnie rushes into Caroline’s room, excited as usual. Caroline is startled but happy to see her.

Oh, Caroline, I’ve just heard! It’s so exciting!!!

(still trying to get over Minnie’s bursting in like that)

That you’re engaged, silly!

Oh, that… yes. (Puzzled) Wait- how did you hear about it?

Directly from the source- Julia heard it from Margaret who heard it from Sara who overheard it when Victoria told Ellen, and Victoria’s parents heard it from Kel’s parents. So anyway, silly, I heard you were engaged, but I never found out to whom, so I rushed right over here to find out! So who is it?

(without enthusiasm)
Christopher Chancellor.

(trying out the name)
Christopher Chancellor… Mrs. Christopher Chancellor… Mrs. Caroline Chan- wait. Christopher Chancellor, as in Christine Chancellor’s older brother?

(still with very little emotion)
‘Chancellor’ is not that common a name.

Christopher Chancellor?!

Would you like me to write it down for you?

(for once, realizing what she’s said… maybe)
No… No, I’m sorry. I just- (with a desperate look at Caroline) Christopher Chancellor?

Minnie, please. If you’re not here to offer you congratulations- or condolences- please leave.

I’m sorry, Carrie. I’m happy for you, really. I mean, this has to be a good sign, doesn’t it?

(looking at the ceiling)
My parents seem to think so.

Well, that’s good then, I suppose. (Pause) I’d never have predicted you’d end up with him, though.

(not looking at her, sardonically)
Funny, I had it planned all along.

I mean, not that you’re not a good match. It’s just you’re so- you and he’s so…


Boring. He’s one of the dullest people I’ve ever met. Never any emotion. He’s just so… placid.

Minnie, next to you, a firecracker looks placid.

I’m just saying it’s an interesting match, that’s all.

Thank you, Minnie. Your input is invaluable. Good bye.

(getting up, a bit confused)
All right, well… I’ll be going then…

She leaves, not sure if she’s just been insulted or not. Caroline watches her go, then puts her hands over her face and sighs deeply.

Sunday, July 11, 2010


Things have really been clicking for me with my novel revisions. This past week, I had two completely free days- no work, no rehearsal, no voice lessons, nothing. And while I love those things (well, mostly the latter two, LOL), it was wonderful to have two summery days. I decided to use those days to really dig into my novel revisions. First, though, I finished reading my friends' novel- read and edited abuot 150 pages in twelve hours- and I think that got me into the mode, because as soon as I started on my own revisions, things just started to work.

I had already made notations from my "editor" in my document, but she had enclosed a letter with the edits that covered some bigger plot points that needed to be looked at. So I wrote these down on a list and as I started to apply them, rather than being frustrated by them, as I had been previously, they made sense. Of COURSE she would have that extra interview... and I really liked the scene that came out of it. And I'd always thought the girls needed to meet up again... out of that came a scene that was sadder than I wanted, but also showed the way some friendships just go after a shocking event.

I used my time wisely- I spent most of both days writing and got a lot done. I feel accomplished. I'm still feeling revision-y and have been trying to write as much as possible. My free time, however, it diminishing- today I had rehearsal and went right to an audition from there, and tomorrow I have work and then go right to voice lessons, and Merchant tech is coming up (eep!) Thankfully though, I have a couple of free days this week that I plan to utilise well.

I think I've also been more successful because I'm feeling a lot of support in my corner, from my friends, my parents, and my teachers. And that really does help.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

WIP Wednesday

So today I took some time to do some true summer chilling- I watched three movies (Bend it Like Beckham, The Lizzie McGuire Movie [hey, stop laughing! It's cute!], and Dead Again), the last of which just blew me away. I love Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branagh.

I also got a ton of novel work done. Not only did I read about 130 pages of (and therefore finish reading) my friend's novel, but I also edited it as I went along and sent it off to him. It was really cool to see his growth, since the first time I read parts of this novel was years ago.

For my own novel, I did a plot storyboard kind of thing- I'm hoping this will help me see where holes are and where things can be expanded. I thought I would have maybe enough cards to fill my medium-sized bulletin board in my room. What I ended up with was 26 notecards with two or three (sometimes five) bigger plot points on them. This made me happy. I also wrote a good amount of new scenes, as well as making many conventional changes.

So anyway, enough chatter. Have some more Remembrance. This takes place while Ruthie and one of her best friends, Annie, are looking for their other friend, Nora, in London.

She left the shop and rushed over to Annie. “It sounds like the man in there saw her.” She told Annie all of the details she had just learned and Annie looked confused.
“But… why would Nora have gone with the woman?”

“I know, I can’t figure that out either. If Nora was taken by the woman, she would have fought back, I know it.” Ruthie shook her head. “But that’s the only thing that doesn’t match up. We need to try and figure out who the woman is. There’s a chance she might still be with her.”

This was a fine plan, but without the woman’s name, the girls had no place to start looking. With nothing to go on, Ruthie and Annie wandered the city all day, asking this person or that person if they had seen an older woman and a teenage girl walking together on the day Nora had disappeared. Their questions turned up nothing, and the girls tried to make their way back to the place they had started from. Within ten minutes, they were completely lost. They were standing on the corner, discussing their options, when they heard a sneering voice behind them.

“Well, well. Wot do have ‘ere?”

Both girls spun around the see a group of kids making their way toward them. They all looked to be between the ages of eleven and seventeen, wearing old, dirty clothes and smug expressions. One girl, close to Ruthie and Annie’s age, stepped forward.

“Look at the little schoolgirls, with their sweet little skirts and white blouses. Come slumming, schoolgirls?”

Ruthie willed her mind to unfreeze so she could think of what to do. While the kids didn’t look particularly threatening, she and Annie were outnumbered three to one. She decided a passive approach would be best. “Hello,” she ventured, offering a nervous smile that was not returned. The kids surrounded the girls, their eyes narrowed.

“This is our corner of the city,” a small boy proclaimed. Though he was shorter than Ruthie by a head and was all skin and bones, Ruthie was quite sure that if she crossed him, she’d be sorry.

“We didn’t mean to intrude,” Annie said, her voice very small. “We’re just lost -”

“Aww,” a girl with braided hair jeered. “They’re lost. Poor little girls.” She looked at the oldest boy in the group. “Do we help lost little girls, Sidney?”

“I dunno, Kit,” the boy said, matching her tone. “I suppose we do, in our way, don’t we?”

Another girl, about thirteen with pale hair, grinned delightedly. “Yeah! How nice of us to lighten their pockets for them. We’re regular Robin Hoods.”

Through all of this, the kids had been circling Ruthie and Annie, making sure they couldn’t get away easily. Now, they moved in a little closer until one of the older girls was only a foot or two away from Ruthie. “So just what are you doin’ in our territory, schoolgirl?”

Ruthie, too, stepped closer. “We need some information. We thought you might be able to help us.”

“And why,” the girl asked, “Would I want to help you?”

Ruthie could not think of a reason why the girl should aid them, but she had a feeling that these kids might know something. Then she got an idea. She dug around in her pocket for the money she had left over from her ticket – not much, but it might work.

She held out the coins. She could see that the older boy was tempted, but he didn’t reach for it right away.

“What d’you want?” he asked.

“We just have a few questions,” Ruthie said, still offering the money.

The boy looked suspicious, as though wondering if the girls were mocking him. “Like what?”

“We’re trying to find our friend,” said Annie. “She’s missing, and we thought you might have seen her.”

“She a little rich girl like you?” the plaited girl asked snidely.

“She’s our friend,” Ruthie snapped. “Either you let us ask our questions, or we take our money and go.” She didn’t think it would be wise to mention that she and Annie had nowhere to go.

The older boy eyed the coins in Ruthie’s palm a second longer, then snatched them and tucked them in his pocket. “All right, rich girl. Ask away.”

Ruthie and Annie quickly explained how Nora had gone missing.

“After we got out of the cellar, we found each other,” Ruthie finished, “But we couldn’t find Nora anywhere. We looked for hours, but there was no sign of her. Then a shopkeeper saw Nora with an old woman soon after she disappeared.”

“They put out a description on the radio,” Annie added. “Have you heard it?”

Kit looked at her scornfully. “An’ just how would we have done that? The Blitzers don’t got a radio, do we?”

“Blitzers?” Annie repeated.

“That’s us, half-wit.”

“All right,” Ruthie said quickly. “We can just tell you what she looks like.” She described Nora and all of the kids shook their heads. Her heart sank to her feet.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

A Decision Has Been Made

I've decided what I'm doing for NaNo 2010! I'll be working on The Other Side of Light, which, as you might have seen on the sidebar, is a contemporary drama-ish novel. (I say drama-ish because while the main events are dramatic, my MC Lyddie has some pretty humorous comments to make about her circumstances.)

It's kind of exciting to know what I'll be working on in November. Since I've already started it (8,700 words already written), my rule will be that, whatever number I have when November rolls around, I have to write 50,000 more. It'd be easy to cheat and just include the 8,000+, but I'll never feel like I truly succeeded unless I write 50,000 words in November.

Unlike Remembrance, this story was created through a prompt I found on the NaNo forums, one that pretty much just read, "There is a house. Inside are two lanterns. They can't ever go out. If they do, something bad will happen." Intrigue... You've already read some of it, actually. I'm really excited to hate this in November, LOL.