NaNoBlog

Wow. Thanksgiving and moving stuff really set me back. I was terrified with having 14k left to do over three days. Now, i think i can do it though. I wrote over six thousand words today! If I can get 4k the next two days, I'm in! I need my winner icon. I can do this.

Wow, it's been a long time with no updates. Bad Julia. I am currently at 36k, but I will hopefully get some more tonight. Why did I agree to take on Thanksgiving dinner? Oh well, I am sure it was a good iea. Or it will be or something. Myarr. December should beso much less stressful compared to November. There's a U-haul truck outside just waiting for Moss to get home so we can unload it, and we have to have dinner and I don't want to cook ANYTHING. And my back hurts. Grar. Also, I am becoming one of these uninteresting bloggers who lists complaints. That won't do at all. The good news: I still have places to go with the novel, so I shouldn't run out of material to cover. Also, having cleaned the living room feels pretty nice.

Current wordcount: 22,172. This puts me just about exactly on schedule (a little over by the 1,667 words a day scheme). Most of what I have written is crap, but I do think I have one good scene. And once the crap is finished I will edit it until it becomes more like something that isn't complete crap.

Just at the moment I am completely in love with Nancy Kress. I want to marry her and have like ten thousand of her babies. She's so good at helping me not get (too) stuck in the middle. And getting stuck in the middle is a huge problem for me. (see as evidence: not finishing most of the stories I have ever started).

In other news, I've been looking into paying markets due to some wacky (it's wacky!) notion that I might try to get paid for writing things. Lavender Sparkle Fish, my NaNoMascot (NaNoMasCo?), has been in stitches over this all day.

Well, I suffered a big setback when I had a day of blockage and then a three day weekend of illness and sloth. It all seems to be turning out okay, though. I feel better for having rested, and I managed to get 2,727 words in today. I am two thirds of the way through the John Wayne Bobbitt and Fabio scene, which is being as fun to write as I had hoped. Tomorrow I'll go back and work on bringing the rest of the story up to connect to that scene. I just had to jump ahead because that scene demanded that I write it. I believe giving in to these sorts of demands is a good idea.

Okay, got to the goal of 12k today. Felt pretty awful about the plot, but I think I am starting to come out of the funk. Thanks are definitely in order to Moira, for helping me to see my plot more clearly. I had the ideas she mentioned before I talked to her, but it's nice to see that they do seem to carry through and that I am not just retarded and lame. Even if I think I am. and I got my 2k for the day. I'm okay. Just gotta keep pushing.

Oof. Got past the 8k mark today. Definitely looking to break 10k tomorrow. Thinking the story might need to be entirely from Braid's point of view. Orchid and Rose do okay, but Braid seems to have a lot to say. We'll see what happens as things progress. Today Mirabai told me that she thought I didn't have writer's block typse things liek other people becuase I had posted the writing exercises all last month. What's funny is that I did them as a way to force myself out of being blocked. I am starting to learn something about writing. It's that all those witers who give advice too new writers and say they should just put one word after another are probably onto something. Not that I am good enough to count myself among them, but that might just be a matter of time if all it takes is a hell of a lot of persistence.

NaNoReport for the 2nd of November

Final word count for the day: 5,804. That's more than a tenth of the way to the goal!

Last year I worried an awful lot about making sure the story was good and readable. This year I am trying to just let what comes out come out. I am getting to know my characters based on what they want to say or do in a given situation. I think half the stuff I am writing now will have to be chopped or at the very least changed for a final draft, but it really does help to get it out now. It gives me more of an insight to what's going on, what direction things will take, and why.

Something else, I've decided: I'm not going to read anything I've already written until after the whole story is done. Then I will let it sit for a month or so, and after that, I will try my hand at revising. I think I have a real chance at finishing this year. This makes me very happy.

All right! First NaNoDay is officially at an end, and I have bagged 3,325 new words! My novel may be rough and choppy, but hey, words are words. My characters are telling their story, little by little. They've already surprised me more than once. This will need a ton of editing after it's finished, but so far I have been very good about not editing as I go. This is a GOOD thing. Yay! Hopefully I can keep up the good rhythm.

Okay, going to bed! Managed to get 602 words on the novel, which is tentatively titled, The Orchid Avengers.

I also managed to finish my Africa story from way back earlier in October, and wrote a total of 1,681 new words altogether today. If I can keep this kind of pace up all month, I'll be golden. The best thing is, of course, that when I wake up tomorrow, it will still be the first of November. Yay!

I think I am going to steal Moira's idea and type things like "STOP EDITING ME!" everytime I feel compelled to change something. The point is not to edit this first crappy draft. he point is to write. And yelling at my internal editor will even up my word count just a tad. Heh. Anyway, bedtime. Oh, blessed sleep.

The rest of the Africa Story:

Madueke lost himself in thought. He was not sure how much time passed. It felt like days, but may have only been minutes. The night air was completely still while he thought. He could not even hear the drums from the village. It seemed as though time had stopped. Perhaps it had, he mused. He would not discount such ideas on a night like this. He looked up at the stars for guidance, but star-reading was not his province, so after a while he closed his eyes and searched his heart. After a time he breathed deeply and opened his eyes.

"I am ready," he said.

Enwelumokwu stood is the same place. She hadn't moved at all. "If you are ready, then ask your questions, beloved one."

Madueke looked into his wife's eyes. "First, is the killer of our people?"

"No,"said Enwelomokwu, "the killer is not of our people. He is a stranger here."

Madueke nodded. He had suspected as much. He thought he knew what he must do, but he would use his other questions anyway. "Enwelomokwu, what will help me the most now?"

Enwelomokwu smiled. "I was right to think you would ask wisely," she said. "What will help you now is Faith, Madueke. You must look within and without, and you must have faith if you are to succeed."

Madueke knew that when he asked the last question the magic of these precious moments would end. He took one last look at his beloved, memorizing all the lines and curves of her face and body. He tried to engrave them on his soul, so that he would never forget. "My last question," he said at last. "Enwelomokwu, I know now that there is an afterlife, for you are here with me. I knew before, but I have doubted at times. I love you and I miss you. Please tell me, will I be with you after this life?"

Enwelomokwu's eyes filled with sadness. "I cannot answer this question to your satisfaction, beloved. I am with you always, and I will always be with you, but more than that I cannot say. I am sorry." She stated to shimmer and fade away then. Madueke felt the tears appear again on his face. Enwelomokwu said one last thing as she disappeared. The voice were distant and distorted, but still recognizable as hers. "I love you, Madueke. If you are feeling alone, do not forget that I am with you. If you call to me, I will come and surround you with warmth. This I promise." The last words echoed in the night breeze until the last of Enwelomokwu's ethereal light had gone away. Madueke stood at the creek for a few minutes longer, staring at the spot where his dead wife had stood. Then he straightened his shoulders and headed back to the village and his hut. He knew he would not sleep tonight. He had much work to do.

Back in the village the drummers were still at their work. The noise seemed louder than before to Madueke's ears. His time at the creek had been peaceful and quiet, but now he was back in the thick of things, and he needed to take care of the troubles that were plaguing his people. He went to his hut and prepared a special blend of herbs, which he then spread in a circle on the earthen floor. In the center of the circle he placed a chicken's foot and then sprinkled it with the blood of the victims. Then he chanted for an hour. When he was finished, he waited. The killer would come to him soon. He lay still on his pallet and let sleep take him.

It was dawn when Madueke woke. He heard the steps outside his hut even though they were very soft. Madueke moved into the shadows in silence and grabbed his weapon. When the killer entered, the hut looked deserted. The killer stepped up to the body of the woman and began to speak to it in a low tone. "I would not have killed you, my cousin," the killer said, "if only you had not been so unfaithful." He reached out to touch the woman's dead hand, and stopped cold. Madueke had stepped into the light.

"You will stop right there," said Madueke. He held his gun in front of him, aiming with a steady hand at the killer's heart. He reached with his other hand, very slowly for the metal rod on the table next to him. Then he began to beat it against a metal bowl, pounding the bowl in quick steady pulses. It was the village alarm system. No one had ever used it before, but everyone who heard it would know what it meant. The killer seemd to know, too. His eyes were wide and scared. He looked at the gun and at madueke and then took a step back toward the door. "Do not try to run,' Said Madueke. "It will only make things worse for you."

The sound of men running was coming closer. The killer slumped. It would be a matter of the men coming in and taking him out into the common area, now. He would not run, but it was only because he was a coward. He had proven himself to be dishonorable. He would pay the price now.

"Madueke!" came the voice of one of the village elders. "May we enter your space to investigate this noise?"

"Please enter, Father," said Madueke.

Three men entered. One older than the others. The younger ones were warriors, full of lean muscles and marked with the ritual scars of warrior initiation on their chests. They stepped forward on the silent command of the elder and flanked the killer. Then the elder spoke again, "Is this man a danger to our village, Madueke?

"He is."

"And what do you charge him with?" asked the elder.

"Father, this is the man who has murdered three of our people. I have seen him speaking to the woman's corpse. He confessed his murder then."

"Very well," said the elder, we must take him and hod him for trial when the mourning is done. With that, the two warriors placed their hands on the killer's arms and led him out of the hut.

"He will stay in their custdy until the trial, Madueke," said the elder. "It is good that you found him. How did you know he would come?"

Madueke put the gun down on the table before he spoke. "I knew..." he thought of Enwelomokwu standing in the moonlight. "I knew because it ws logical. The common thread was the woman and her daughter. They were all found together. The woman was not of our people originally. The killer was her cousin. He wished to have her for himself, but she left him, and so he came after her. When he found her, he killed her and her child. No doubt our finest warrior, even though he was old enough to deserve rest and peace, tried to save the woman and child from this dishonorable man. He is little more than a pirate, after all. A pirate who would steal our goods and kill our people. But the killer had magic on his side. He is a coward of the lowest sort, who would appeal to dar gods for help in his dishonorable quest. And so our warrior was defeated. The woman and child were killed. But the man who killed them could not be at peace. Especially after the spell I cast made him see their shades. He came back because he had to, because the though t of them was driving him mad. He will welcome his punishment. I only wish it could bring the dead back, but it cannot. What will happen to him?"

The elder stroked his chin with a bony hand. "The killer will face trial. The village will hear you words and any of the killer's own. Then the elders will decide. He will either become a slave, or be put to death. It is uncertain at this time. We will wait until the proper mourning period has passed out of respect for the dead. Thank you, madueke. I hope that you will have no further problems as you prepare these bodies for their eternal rest."

Madueke bowed and showed the elder out. The he swept up the remains of his spell with a rough broom made of twigs. He put one hand over the medicine he wore next to his heart. He missed his wife, but he felt less alone now. "Thank you, Enwelomokwu," He said. When he had disposed of the herbs and the chicken foot, Madueke sat down on his pallet and picked up the gun. It was plastic, and very light. "Only a coward would be more scared of a gun than of dealing with black arts," he said aloud. Then he laughed, because he himself would not touch a real gun. "A coward, or a fool. Which am I, I wonder." Madueke gave himself up to sleep again for a few hours. He would need rest if he was to finish his work well.

In his dreams, Enwelomokwu came to him and slept beside him. "Madueke," she said, "You are only foolish for thinking yourself a fool." And then she was gone, but her warmth lingered on.