[NaNo 2011] Day 30 / Last Day

It's coming down to the wire for NaNoWriMo 2011. Even though I hit the 50K-word count mark a few days ago, I'm still trying to treat this as a hit-quota-per-day adventure as I move into the second arc of the story. There's a bit of catch-up characterization for the main protagonists, here, since I'm jumping forward some in time, both for them and their romance.

Right now, LibreOffice says I'm at 53,834 words, while the NaNo word count validator says I'm at 52,357; there's a discrepancy there because of the way that LibreOffice sees curly-cue quotes (and I have a lot of sympathy for writers with more dialogue than I do, who were confused by that discrepancy!), but I'm pleased with where things are headed, now.

I'm taking a little bit of time to let my protagonists have some happiness before I drop them into the next big conflict...but that is coming, and soon. I think I'll keep this 'blog through my progress, even if it's not daily updates, because it's interesting to look back and see how far I've come with this story.

[NaNo 2011] Day 29

Starting the second arc of the story has been more difficult than I was expecting it to be. I could just jump right into the main conflict...but I want to do some happy stuff. I know that it's not conducive to keeping a story moving, but this is a romance story, and I feel like if I'm just speeding my characters along from one conflict to the next, the reader will feel like they're on an emotional rollercoaster.

What do you think?

[NaNo 2011] Day 28.2

Not only did I finish Chapter 6 (and Arc I) at lunch today, but I also completed my NaNoWriMo goal of 50,000 words written in November!

It feels a little bit anti-climactic, since I know there is more of the story to write, but that will definitely not stop me from enjoying this feeling until I get the chance to write again. :)

[NaNo 2011] Day 28

Apparently, the NaNo novel validator does not like the way that LibreOffice does its word count, so while LO tells me I'm above the 50K mark, NaNo is telling me that I've still got about 500 words to go. That's fine, though; I'm not quite at the end of Chapter 6 as of this writing (though I'm really, really close).

This first arc has been a real joy of an experience for me to write. I feel like I've come to know Ross, Amber, Neville and the rest in the last twenty-eight days just as well as I got to know Chie and her friends over the course of nearly three years. Their voices - however conflicted they might sometimes be - are so clear in my head (and on my page) that I shouldn't be surprised at how easily they often flow from my brain to my fingertips.

I really want to see this one through to the end, which is one reason why I'm seriously considering making December Finish Novel Writing Month, or - perhaps more directly accurate - Finishing Fearless Writing Month. (FiNoWriMo? FiFeWriMo? I'll have to work on that!) I feel like I owe it to these sweethearts, though. And I want to keep building their world around them, if that includes the original outline or not. They just feel that special to me.

Here's to another successful day of writing...and, just maybe, validation!

[NaNo 2011] Day 26

While I'm almost at the 50K mark as I write this, what is even more important to me is that I am absolutely coming up to the end of the first arc of the story, now...! Just a bit of arc-ish denouement, and I can start work on... dun dun dun! ...Arc II! (That just happens to be the main thrust of the story. Of course.)

I'm really happy with what I've accomplished so far, though. I haven't felt such love for characters in a long, long time, and I feel like anyone who reads this will read it because they enjoy my writing and the way I shape relationships within my worlds, rather than because they want to see how I do or don't screw up a pre-existing universe of characters.

One of the things of which I am often accused is being too descriptive. I can't really help it; that's just the way that I write. And I personally like description, especially if it helps relate aspects of the characters - and the way they interact - without using a lot of dialogue. (Not that there's anything wrong with telling a story through dialogue. Except that it often ends up being just that: telling.)

They took once more to the bed soon after, caressing and cuddling rather than seething and grinding, because Amber hummed that she wasn't quite ready for sex again yet. Though it was still enjoyable even so, for it gave Ross reason and opportunity to concentrate on all of the tiny subtleties of her form: from the webby skin between her toes (that was very ticklish when he played his tongue there), to the shallow hollow of her navel (in which the smell of soap lingered wonderfully when he pressed his nose there), to the sensitive inner ridge of her ear (which made her belly cringe and her nipples harden when he blew a string of suggestive obscenities there).

With this paragraph, by the way, I hit 49445 words, just a bit over 500 shy of the NaNo goal of 50K. Four days early, even!

49445 / 50000 words. 99% done!

Of course, it's still all about the story.

[NaNo 2011] Day 24

It is Thanksgiving Day here in the US, and I'm supremely thankful for many things (my family, my health, my loved ones here and overseas), but - at the moment - I'm most thankful for my husband and my girls, who allow me to get up early in the morning (and stay up late at night) just writing, without any expectations on my time or attention. When I want to write, they let me write, and I'm very thankful and grateful for that.

In NaNo news, yesterday saw the (fourth attempt) at the end of Chapter 5 (Of Princes or Devils). It's also the attempt that worked the very best to my satisfaction.

I know that NaNo is about "writing with abandon" ... but I can't allow myself to write just any old crap simply to get the word count up. I want to tell a good story, and so the end scene of Chapter 5 gave me a lot of trouble. I wrote it at least three times - never to my own expectations (or, seemingly, to Ross's and Amber's, since they kept demanding I go back and change things) - and struggled with flow of actions and motivations. I did finally get it to a wonderful point of completion, though (again, four drafts in). It's a lovely if painful moment for my would-be lovers, and it (hopefully) bridges nicely the end of the NaNo novella experience and the beginning of the second arc that will carry it through to full-fledged novel.

Working on Chapter 6 right now, which is feeling so much better with the latest write-through of the end of Chapter 5. This should put me over the 50K mark. Also, as I mentioned, it should finish up the first arc of the story.

I think I'll put these first six chapters out for proofreading once I'm done and working steadily on Arc II. So, if you're interested in a read-through, let me know.

[NaNo 2011] Day 22

Rather than writing some long post about not playing by the NaNoWriMo rules of writing with abandon, I'll let today's bonusparts_fic Twitter feed speak for me:

With pain, scrapped ~1800 words today. But Ross and Amber just didn't want to cooperate. Thankfully, they're being much more accepting, now.

and, two hours later:

This scene I #amwriting is so much better now than the last 4 times I wrote it. #nanowrimo #Fearless http://bit.ly/vyEEJa

Lost a bit of momentum with the wordcount...but the story is much more to my satisfaction.

[NaNo 2011] Day 21

Struggling to make things work today. I wrote a ton over the weekend - about 6000 words on Saturday and Sunday alone (that's a lot for me) - and felt great about my progress. Unfortunately, like when you don't get enough sleep, it has caught up to me today, after a long day's work full of deadlines, schedules, and meetings. Still, I've managed to crack 1000 words in today's sporadic sessions, and I figured out how to bring the first arc to completion. (Yes, there had been some vacillation about that.)

To satisfy those who are looking for some actual excerpts, here's one of my favorites from the last 8K:

“So,” Neville said as Ross continued to munch on the crunchy wheat flakes. “How did your date go last night?” Then he grinned and waggled his dark brows in suggestion, muttering conspiratorially, “Or is your lady fair still upstairs, contentedly asleep in your untidy bachelor's boudoir?”

Ross swallowed and gave a weak frown at the same time. He stood up from his barstool seat, palming his shallow bowl into one hand and the lowball full of orange juice in the other. “Not that it is any of your business,” he said, pausing briefly to tongue a stray flake from his molars, “but no. I walked her home last night around ten-thirty, and that was it.”

Neville followed him around the counter and into the back room, past the stairs to the second floor, to the sink-and-stove unit, where Ross dropped the bowl and paused to down the rest of the juice.

“Sorry to hear that, mate,” Neville murmured. The comment wasn't meant to mock; he sounded genuinely sincere. “I thought you two were hitting it off.”

“Oh, we did,” Ross told him with a grin. Then he stepped through the wide doorway again, to return to his seat behind the counter.

Neville continued to follow, whistling softly, now. “What is this?” he drawled in mock-surprise. “No braggadocio? No grossly inappropriate, intimate details about her lacy pants, or how bouncy her tits are, or how she likes to be spanked by a wooden paddle?”

Ross laughed beneath his breath. “I don't know where you got that last one...!” he muttered.

Neville wasn't about to be misdirected, though. He tilted his head to the side, to look at Ross sidelong, with a smile. “You're not going to tell me anything about what happened last night,” he murmured, as though trying to goad. “Are you?”

Ross returned his look, forcing his mouth not to twitch. “No,” he said at last, quite definitely.

Rather than being miffed, Neville grinned wide, showing off his eyeteeth. “At least answer me this, then,” he said, and here he laid one hand upon the counter and leaned over it, controlling his visible glee long enough to drop his voice to a mutter. “Are you in love with this girl?”

“What?” Ross said, abruptly scoffing. “What gave you that idea?”

“That is not a 'no,'” Neville replied, still prodding, and still grinning, too.

“You keep your opinions to yourself,” Ross told him, unable to keep the chuckle he'd been holding in from escaping him, now, or that heated, euphoric flush from rushing into his face, both of which just made Neville crow gleefully:

“I knew it!”

Ross shook his head, unable to think of a suitable response (whatever that might be) before the door chime sounded again. He looked up, and abruptly his smile and joy fell and floundered; this wasn't Amber, either, come calling for some morning sweetness.

It was Sam.

Neville greeted her with a polite salutation, but Ross – anticipating a more vehement chiding for not being at the lifeboat station, yet – skipped the niceties and shot her a frown. “Tell Burridge I was just on my way-” he began, but Sam dismissed him with a shake of her head.

“I'm not here for you,” she muttered, and then she lifted her chin. “Where's Amber?”

Ross blinked curiously at her for a second, then replied, “Why would I know that?”

Sam wrinkled her nose in a sneer. “Don't play dumb with me, you cretin. I know she's here with you; now, go get her.”

Ross sat up fully, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and snorted. “Even if she were here – which she isn't! – you can't just come in here and order me about.”

Sam's mouth twitched. “What do you mean?” she muttered.

“I mean, this is my shop!”

“No,” Sam snapped back at him. She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, she's not here?”

Neville chose that moment to step in. “We haven't seen her since last night. That's the honest truth. Right, mate?” he said, shooting a glance at Ross, who nodded.

Sam gave a huff. “Well, she went out with her wetsuit and that stupid surfboard this morning,” she said. “Where the hell else would she be?”

“There's no surfing today!” Ross retorted. “It's all chop out there. You'd have to be crazy to-” he said, and then his voice abruptly died in his throat as his own words sunk in. And before he could even swear, the lifeboat rescue pager attached to his belt went off, followed a half-second after by the one Sam carried in her purse.

Ross looked at her, feeling his face go slack. “Shout's out,” he muttered.

Sam's eyes went wide. “Oh, God-!” she croaked, and she spun for the door.

Ross was a full five paces behind her out the door, but he had a longer stride and was a strong runner, so he hit the edge of the beach well ahead of her. He almost wished he didn't, though, for the sight of those familiar red RNLI jackets clustered together around the bright yellow shape of a surfboard. It was a Mollusc make, he could see, the same one he'd loaned to Amber.

“Jesus,” he breathed.

[General] Email alerts

I've added a little widget (at the top of the page) that you can use to receive email updates when I make a new post here. Since I do try to update this blog every day through November, that may be a bit much for you, but if you're used to getting a lot of email (or just prefer reading email as opposed to visiting this site), the widget is there for you. :)

[NaNo 2011] Day 18

Quite tired today. Working on about four hours' worth of sleep, and it's starting to take its toll, after a full work day and the cold weather settling in in earnest. Also at a strange part of the story.

In my outline, I had planned for a brief conflict of perspectives at this juncture...but as I wrote, Ross and Amber just didn't want to follow the breakdown. Yes, the characters have started to lead the story themselves. (At "only" ~33K words. I don't know if that's good or bad.)

I do think this development works better for them, in this place where I've brought them in the story so far. It's just that it takes out about two chapters' worth of conflict resolution, by going this new way.

Ah, well. Amber is a very persuasive young lady. I can't fault her for that. And it doesn't hurt to get Ross closer to the point of being a hero just a little bit earlier.

No excerpt today; sorry. Don't want to spoil all of this creamy, sweet cheese.

[NaNo 2011] Day 17

There is no doubt in my mind that I love me some cheesy romance. But let's face it: all romance is cheesy:

The large grassy precipice of Crow's Point was empty, an unbroken expanse of green grass that stretched toward the sea on one side, toward the village on another, and on the third back toward the path and road they'd just walked. There was no artificial illumination up here, and the lights from the village shopfronts and homes weren't enough to create more than a quaint tableau that looked like a model train set far below. But the stars overhead were bright, blinking and twinkling and shining without competition, and they cast enough light for them to see where their steps flattened the thick grass, and more than enough light for Ross to watch how Amber's face beamed as she took in the view.

She looked out toward the horizon first, then turned her head slowly in the direction of the village, for a long minute just blinking. Then she smiled, and clasped at his hand, which she hadn't yet let go. Finally, she whispered, “It's all so beautiful,” in a voice so hushed that he almost might not have known she'd spoken at all, except that he found it very difficult to tear his eyes away from her lips and the way that they glistened in the starlight as she smiled and spoke.

“It certainly is,” he said, still watching her.

She turned to him now, and abruptly giggled. “You're not even looking!”

“I am so!” he told her with a chuckle. But then he quickly quieted, shifting on his feet so that he was facing her, and reached out with his free hand to caress the round part of her jaw. “I'm looking at you,” he told her softly. Then he bent his head down to hers, lifting her face at the same time (or maybe she did that; he couldn't quite tell). And in the warm space halfway between where they stood, their lips met, clutching in one soundless kiss, then another, and still yet another.

Ross let go of her hand at last, trading her fingers for the gentle curve of the small of her back; he felt both of her arms wind their way around his shoulders, and she pressed up into his embrace, humming faintly against his mouth. There was no swaying or shuffling, just the soft and sweet-smelling squeeze of her body against his as their lips and tongues danced a delightful give and take of blooming desire.

I think because I live in an age where romance has become cliche, it's difficult for me to take a lot of what I read and see and hear seriously, when it comes to the more tender side of things. But I still try my hand at writing it. Sure, it can be cringe-worthy at times. But isn't that part of what makes it so damn fun?

[NaNo 2011] Day 16

Yeehah! I broke the 30K mark today! I did take the day off from work, so that certainly helped, but I think it's also because sub-plot points are starting to converge. Rather nicely, I think, too. Not to mention, there are now more characters to play with:

“...Ross?” Freddie said, looking bemused.

“Alfred,” Ross replied, matter-of-fact.

“Can I...help you with something?” Freddie ventured now, glancing first left and then right along the street.

Ross offered the other man a nod. “I'm here to pick up Amber,” he said, just as Sam called from the interior:

“Who is it?”

Freddie opened his mouth to respond, but he wasn't quite quick enough to preempt Sam's ruffling of skirt and shuffling of shoes as she appeared at the door. And he certainly wasn't quick enough to stop her from muttering to Ross, “What do you think you're doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too, Sam,” Ross sneered. Then he repeated: “I'm here for Amber.” He shot her a too-nice smile. “We have a date.”

“Like hell,” Sam muttered, and now she stepped in front of Freddie, crossing her arms in front of her ample chest. “You're not taking her anywhere.”

“Why don't you ask her what she wants?” Ross countered, unable to keep the provoking edge from his voice.

Sam's lips – the same ones he'd once thought would be rather tasty – curled into a snarl at him. But before she could let loose with a retort, Amber came bouncing between them in her boots, her blonde hair and white fringed scarf flying out behind her as she trotted down the steps.

“I'm going out,” Amber told Sam and Freddie in a rush. “I have my mobile, don't wait up, good night, I love you, bye!” And she paused only ever so briefly to kiss Sam quickly on the cheek before she skipped past her to the street.

Ross chuckled, Freddie just stared, but Sam held up one hand. “Just one minute, young lady!” she said, and Amber spun round to face her, the short skirt of her retro-mod dress twirling up around her thighs.

“I'll be home before morning,” Amber told her, as though anticipating an argument.

Sam frowned. “Ten,” she corrected.

“Midnight,” Amber replied with a negotiating smile. Then she hooked her arms around Ross's elbow and started to pull him down the street, calling back over her shoulder, “Not a minute after; I promise!” And before anyone could say another word, she had dragged him nearly around the corner, where he finally managed to bring her to a halt.

“You are a whirlwind, girl,” he said with a laugh. “You know that?”

Amber shrugged. “Sam still thinks I'm twelve,” she muttered. “She thinks she has to protect me.”

Even if he shared little else in common with Sam, Ross could sympathize with that particular sentiment; after knowing her barely a week, Amber already tended to evoke his protector instincts. (Mostly because he wanted to keep her for himself, but that was beside the point.) “I can understand that,” he told her, and then, with a little flourish, he pulled his other arm out from behind his back, extending to her the iris in its delicate paper wrap. “M'lady,” he said, smiling with gentle charm.

She blinked her eyes, then took the flower with a little shimmying curtsey. “Thank you, sir,” she said, playing along. Then she lifted the petals toward her face, closed her eyes, and gave an audible inhalation that made her chest puff in a very attractive way, and that made him smile even more winningly at her. She looked up at him again, returning his smile with one that was as doting as it was sweet.

“I love irises,” she murmured, and then she stepped up beside him again, looping her arm through his once more. Though this time when she started to walk again, he quite distinctly felt her hip move close to his.

Ross slowed his pace for her, then grinned to himself; he should have been taking women advice from Venus all along. At least he'd done so tonight, though, and had the company of this pretty girl to show for it.

“You butt heads with Sam a lot?” he asked now, as they walked more leisurely toward the village square and its sweets shop.

“She just worries,” Amber answered with a quiet sigh. “She's done since I was little.” Then she giggled. “Especially about boys,” she added, squeezing herself against his arm in a very warm and cosy way.

“I expect that's justified,” he replied, shooting her a toothy smile as he leaned over her. “We can be quite wicked.”

I'm starting to lose some steam, now, though, as I tend to do later in the evening. I've found that I write best very early in the morning, and then I get another burst around the time I take my train commute home, and a final surge of good vibes after dinner. Regardless, I'm just so happy to be writing something I love again.

...I just wish there were people with whom I could share it.

[NaNo 2011] Day 15

Fearless is most definitely about Ross and Amber, and Neville (and Sam) have important supporting roles to play, but today I stumbled upon a new favorite of mine in this story: little Emma Newsome.

Venus narrowed her eyes at her husband, then turned back to Ross with a questioning look. “So, where's your gift?” she asked.

Ross frowned at her. “What do you mean, gift?”

“You know,” Venus said. “Flowers, candy, that sort of thing.” She gave a swift snort. “You're not seriously going to take her out without some token of appreciation for giving your arse a chance, now, are you?”

“It's just a walk around the village,” Ross informed her. “Maybe up to Crow's Point.”

There was a sudden chorus of hooting and whistles from around the table, and then Venus sat back from him.

“Crow's Point?” she echoed, her plucked brows rising nearly into her hairline. She snorted again. “You'd better bring her a gift, then!”

Scott nodded. “That is a well romantic spot,” he agreed.

“I know that!” Ross retorted; he'd had enough snogs on the overlook hill in his day. But a gift...?

He glanced around at the expectant expressions, then turned back to the one person who likely knew what she was talking about. “You really think I need to give her something?” he asked.

“Yes,” Venus declared; Emma was only a second behind her, equally decisive:

“Yes.”

Venus's opinion was one thing; Emma's couldn't be disputed. So Ross grinned at her, and leaned his head close to the little girl's. “What do you think I should bring her?” he asked in an exaggeratedly hushed mutter.

“Is she pretty?” Emma asked, equally hushed but not to be playful; her face was all seriousness.

Ross nodded. “She is very pretty, yes,” he told her.

“Then flowers,” Emma replied without missing a beat.

“You're training her early,” Neville remarked with a snicker from across the table, and Venus shushed him with a look.

Ross glanced away for only a second before looking into Emma's big brown honest eyes again. “What kind of flowers?” he prompted, affecting anxiety.

Emma pressed her lips to the side, then looked around toward her mother. “What kind of flowers?” she repeated.

Venus smiled and gave her a bounce, then leaned in to her ear, mock-whispering, “What about your favorites? Ross can take those.”

Emma turned back to Ross with a grin. “Poofs!” she declared.

“I think she's talking about you,” Niall said to Neville, who gave him a shove.

Venus chuckled. “No, not dandelions, sweetheart,” she told the girl. “Those pretty flowers with the long stems, and the curling petals. Do you remember what those are called?” And here Emma turned deeply ponderous (for a five-year-old), which just made Ross smile at her again. “It's Gran's name,” Venus hinted quietly, now, and Emma's round face lit up, and she clapped her hands upon her legs.

“Iris!” the girl proclaimed happily.

There was more amused laughter from the adults, but Ross took her at her word. “Irises, eh? They are quite pretty,” he agreed. “So, you think I should bring Amber some of them?”

“Yes,” Emma told him firmly.

Ross nodded. “Then that is what I shall do,” he said, wholly convinced, now.

One of the really wonderful things about writing original characters is that I never quite know who's going to grab hold of my imagination in that special way where they just pop up in a scene and then completely run off with it. But Emma has been one of those characters. Her purpose from a storytelling perspective is to show the reader that Ross isn't a bad guy, that he has potential to be a good guy, in fact. But she's just so adorable to write that I couldn't help falling in love with her a little bit.

Maybe you agree, maybe you don't. All I know is, I've had a blast writing her.

[NaNo 2011] Day 14

When I wrote my NaNoWriMo story for 2007 (Sixes and Sevens), I planned all of the Part and Chapter titles around popular music singles and albums of 1996-1997, since that's when the story took place. For Fearless, I'm using the same formula as I did for 1 More Chance!, which is less structured than what I did for Sixes and Sevens, if perhaps less fun. (Certainly less research involved!)

So far, the chapter titles run as follows:
I: Only the Pretty Ones
II: Wave Walker
III: Almost There
Chapter IV takes place on a walk around Harbram and, more specifically, at the overlook above the village.

I hadn't planned on spending an entire chapter on what is basically just one long conversation, but I feel like it's needed to push Ross and Amber to the next level. (Plus, it gives me an opportunity to try and get Sam back in there.)

No excerpt this time, since I couldn't really find anything that could be taken out of context with any kind of ease. I hope that you're enjoying them, though!

[NaNo 2011] Lucky Day 13

If you're superstitious, you may consider the number thirteen to be unlucky. Well, that's not the case for Amber, apparently.

Ross looked down at her nestling like a newborn kitten on his chest, her smile faint but so sweet, and her sighs hushed but happy, and just blinked.

Usually, he took a kind of justified pride in being able to bring a woman to orgasm. So many of them complained that, ninety-nine percent of the time, they were left hanging after their partner hit his own climax, that it had always been key for him to prove himself to be in that elusive one percent, especially since women tended to reciprocate (often in the most wonderful – if not particularly imaginative – ways) once he'd done so.

But this time, there was no prompting suggestion muttered in the girl's ear, to tell her what would make him feel the same, no subtle goad to spur her to the challenge of making him come just as hard. This time, he simply folded his arms around her, cuddling her more firmly into his chest, and pressed his lips gently against the crown of her head.

In response, she made a tiny noise of delight and rubbed her cheek against him, as though seeking warmth. There was nothing in the shop proper, or the working area, to offer her, and it was starting to get awkward to hold her up against the desk. So he gathered her shoulders close with one arm while he tucked the other behind her knees, lifting her into a carry.

“Let's get you upstairs,” he whispered to her, and she gave a sleepy nod, winding her arms around his neck.

I adore writing these parts of romance stories, where the main character is starting to fall in love. (Unfortunately, Ross is still a bit too hung up on past mistakes to completely realize what's happening. But that's part of the fun of writing a romance: helping the characters figure out how to make things work.)

I'm very close to the halfway mark, at this point, but I've decided to just keep pace for a while. It's actually easier for me to write during the work week: I've got a commute of nearly an hour (round trip), and a lunch break, and I can close my door so no one will bother me. When I'm at home, on the weekends, it's a bit more difficult to find time to just lock myself away and concentrate on my writing.

I've also set up a Blogger account, to track my NaNo progress. It's a bit more public than this journal, but I haven't publicized it yet. I keep vacillating whether I want to share these excerpts with the wide world or not. Oh, well. We'll see.

24126 / 50000 words. 48% done!

[NaNo 2011] Day 12

Some people who are low on their wordcount pull out the stops for description, others pile on the incidental dialogue. But I've long known the way to make my wordcount jump, that works for both the story and my satisfaction.

I sex it up.

These sections tend to take a bit more concentration, because logic needs to come into play with limb placement and order of actions, but I can always get myself through a sex (or pseudo-sex) scene with at least an extra thousand words to beef up my total wordcount. So, for those reading the excerpts, at about 21K, I've gotten Ross to the point where he gets to do more than just wank off to Amber; lucky boy gets (a little bit) lucky!

Not the easiest day I've had writing, so far...but definitely one of the more fun ones.

[NaNo 2011] Day 11

I keep wondering if I'm being too subtle with some parts of this narrative...though it's also fun to play with readers' perceptions. For example, this idea of the other woman....

“I'm worried that I'm being played,” Ross muttered as he looked into his glass. Again, he thought, though he didn't say that.

But still Neville didn't seem concerned. “So she wants to take it slow,” he replied. “You said yourself it's made things interesting.”

“It was interesting for the first two days,” Ross said. “But it's been a week, now!”

“Quit complaining,” Neville told him. “Amber's a great girl.”

“I'm not saying she's not great,” Ross countered. “I mean, she's a right fit bird; the best we've had around here in a long time!” He sniffed, and mumbled mostly into his drink, “I just want to know if I'll ever get a leg over with her.”

Now Neville snickered, in a way that was both scornful and amused. “Sex has always come easy to you,” he said, lowering his voice, likely to be decorous while in the pub. “But now there's a girl who's making you work for it, and you can't stand that. That's the only reason you're bothered.”

Ross shot him a glare, then turned back to the remainder of his own ale. “Be that as it may,” he muttered back, “it would still be nice to know that I'm not just waiting around for nothing.”

Neville returned the glare but didn't say anything else for a long time. So they just finished their pints in mutual silence, until Ross started to dig in his pockets for some dosh, when Neville stopped him with a hand. But where Ross expected this to be about settling up, it wasn't:

“Don't be a lad, mate,” Neville murmured, all stern seriousness of a sudden. “Amber's cool; everybody thinks so. And she really likes you, for who you are. Not like-” he started, but then he stopped himself, and swallowed back whatever it was he was going to say.

He didn't need to articulate it, though; Ross knew well what was perched on Neville's tongue, and he could almost hear the other man spit the word from his brain anyway:

Susanna.

I took the day off from work today, in an effort to get my wordcount up. I did manage to break 20K, but there was a huge chunk of the middle of the day that I spent wandering around the city, going from lunch to dinner with a few chocolates and beers in between, so it wasn't totally as productive as it might have been if I'd simply stayed in and written all day. But I suppose that life is about living, just as much as it's about writing, these days.


20302 / 50000 words. 41% done!

[NaNo 2011] Day 10

I've had to take a bit of a breather today, to recuperate from some sleep loss, as well as to concentrate on my day job. The latest section of writing also gets to the crux of the relationship between Ross and Amber in a much more direct way than I usually do in my storytelling.

Bang! There it is, folks:

“The bed's big enough for two,” he murmured, “if we cuddle. Or if one of us stays on top!” he added with a chuckle.

“No.”

Her voice wasn't tickling any longer, and he pulled back from her, blinking quickly. “What-? But-!” He swallowed, hard. “You said that you liked me.”

Amber's expression of unease changed abruptly, as she laughed; Ross didn't think the sound of her high laughter could screw him so deeply in his guts. But it didn't linger in the air; she turned strangely tender again a second later, and then said something even stranger after that:

“I do like you!”

He snorted. “Just not enough to go to bed with me. Is that it?”

She laughed again, the same incredulous sound as before. “You must be joking,” she said. “We barely know each other!”

He tried to draw her close again, circling his arms around her in a loose but coercive embrace that had worked so many times before. “I know that you're beautiful,” he told her. “And darling.” Recalling the taste of her lips from only a moment ago, he tilted his head, seeking with his mouth to savour it once again. “And I want to take you to bed,” he whispered.

But she pulled away, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at him. “You have a strange idea of romance, Mister Finch,” she muttered.

Romance? Ross felt ready to start tearing at his own hair. “Jesus, Amber!” he growled as he stood back from her.

She blinked. “What?”

“What in hell do you want from me?”

“What are you talking about? I don't want anything-”

“Of course you do!” he said, leaning in to her again, though the move was anything but intimate. “All women want something. They want a puppet, or an ego boost, or to make some other bloke jealous.” He gave a rough snort through his nose. “You obviously don't want to have sex with me, so just tell me what it is that you do want!”

She blinked again, silently, and the look that passed across her face was so hurt, so...broken...that it made him feel suddenly guilty, though he wasn't quite certain as to the reason why.

She gave another low shake of her head. “What happened to you,” she murmured, “to make you so cynical about things?”

He pressed his lips together tightly, willing himself to keep quiet. Because it had taken long enough for him to put all of that humiliation and heartache behind him, and the thought of dredging up all of those old wounds all over again made him feel ill in his stomach and chest.

But still there was something about the troubled look in those hazel eyes, the warm part of those pink lips, the sad shift of those slender shoulders as she cocked her head down to one side, as though to examine him more closely, that made him mutter:

“Ask Sam.”

Still loving these two, though, and the world that's forming around them. It breaks my heart a little bit, to know what's coming for them, but I still want to do them justice and see them through.

[NaNo 2011] Preparation and Disbelief

Wait, wait, wait-! I know that the spirit of NaNoWriMo is about having fun with writing, not being overly concerned with perfected plot and editing...but are people really just writing as they go, with no plan whatsoever? Just because you can't start writing until November 1 does not mean that you can't be doing research, and character studies, and outlining your plot ideas in the meantime, before the starter's pistol goes off. That's what writers do, folks!

I realize that many of us are in this just for the sprinting feeling of getting those words on the page...but a story still has rules: it is not, contrary to what some might say, just a series of words strung together. There should be conflict, and character development and interaction, and a realized world. There should be a plot and a progression of events that satisfies said plot. There should be emotion (or, alternately, a lack of it, if that is your point). And growth. And a power in your words that will make those letters on the page actually mean something to somebody someday.

I am all for finding the glorious glee in hitting a benchmark of words - that is a wonderfully fulfilling accomplishment that I know I've felt and hope other people experience, too. But don't mistake a wordcount for a story.

Your characters can lead your story, certainly; it is their story, after all. But you're the writer. You should at least have a general idea of where they're going to go, even if they do hijack you along the way.

[NaNo 2011] Day 07

I'm having so much fun writing this story. Not just for the interactions, but for the information I've gotten to read while doing research for each of the characters. Researching surfers has been especially amusing....

“So,” Ross said, turning to Amber during a lull in the action. “How'd you like your first outing as a surf bunny?”

Amber looked quizzically at him. “What's that?”

He shrugged. “A girl who wants to be a surfer,” he informed her, to which she scoffed audibly.

“I don't want to be a surf bunny!” she declared, sounding offended as she sat upright. “I want to be a real surfer!”

He laughed. “You have to learn how to stand, first, to do that!” he teased.

In response, she gave a humph, narrowing her eyes at him.

She was very good at playing miffed (the round pout of her lips was as cute now as it had been that morning)...but Ross could also see a tinge of embarrassed color flush her cheeks, and so he quickly took pity on her, and recanted.

“Hey,” he muttered, bumping her with his hand; it wasn't normally in his nature to be apologetic, but every once in a while, it was warranted. “Everybody falls, especially their first day out. The point is, you had fun, right?”

That bright and pretty smile started to creep to Amber's lips again. “Yeah,” she said, and nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“Then that's all that matters.”

She leaned forward again. “But I want to get better!”

“You will,” Ross assured her with a nod. “It just takes practice. Today might have been hard, but tomorrow, it'll get easier. And the day after that, it'll get even easier.” He grinned again. “Pretty soon, you'll be out there riding in the tubes with the rest of us!”

“Like a real surfer?” Amber prompted with a growing grin of her own.

He bobbed his head again. “Just like a real surfer,” he said.

She dropped back to her hands, smiling with supreme self-satisfaction. But a moment later, she looked back at him. “Can I ask you a 'real surfer' question?”

Ross blinked at her. “What's that?”

Amber giggled to herself, a warm blush returning to her cheeks and the top of her nose. She leaned toward him, that pinked nose very close to his so that her face nearly filled his vision, a most pleasing sight. Drawing a breath then, she chewed briefly on her bottom lip before murmuring to him, “How do you...wee?”

He blinked again, then laughed softly. “Just go in your suit,” he told her blithely.

She sat back of a sudden, pulling a face. “That is disgusting!” she scolded.

“Everybody does it,” he said dismissively. He chuckled again as he gave a shrug. “And when the water's cold, it can feel rather nice.”

She looked him over, wrinkling her nose at him. “...Are you sitting in your wee right now?” she asked dubiously.

“No!” he said, half-laughing and half-disgusted, himself. Then: “Look, if you're catching great waves, you don't want to paddle all the way back to shore, find a WC, and then peel off your suit just to do a wee. Not to mention, you've got to pull the whole thing back on before you can get out into the water again. That's just a waste of time.”

Amber sniffed. “I still think it's disgusting,” she muttered.

He snickered. “We'll see if you still think that way when you're a 'real surfer.'” And he flashed her a quick and chuffed wink.

I'm nearing the end of the second chapter, and while I was vacillating on one of the romantic events, I think I've come up with a pleasant middle ground that should satisfy both the plot direction as well as my own prurient interests. :)

On a side note, I did notice today that, when I plotted this story, the character of Sam was going to have a much more significant role than she's had, yet. Neville has actually picked up a lot of the character moment slack in that regard. I hope that Sam asserts herself some more in the later pages, though. She's one of the main reasons why I came up with this story in the first place.

If you're enjoying these little excerpts, let me know! I'd appreciate it. :)

[NaNo 2011] Music

I'm not great at putting music together for mood (as you're supposed to do for playlists, the modern equivalent of mix tapes), but the order of the songs sort of corresponds to the action and drama of "Fearless," so it helps me when I write.

With the Sea Kevin MacLeod
1979 Smashing Pumpkins
On Melancholy Hill Gorillaz
Here Comes The Rain Again Eurythmics
Maria Blondie
Female of the Species [Fembot Mix] Space
Don't Do Me Like That Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
And She Was Talking Heads
Brass In Pocket The Pretenders
Little Sister Queens Of The Stone Age
Creep Radiohead
I Can't Stay The Killers
There is Romance Kevin MacLeod
The Look of Love Susanna Hoffs
Overkill [Version] Colin Hay
No One's Gonna Love You Cee Lo Green
Mysterious Ways U2
A Jagged Gorgeous Winter RB2 Remix The Main Drag
Tell Me Baby Red Hot Chili Peppers
Stumble & Fall Razorlight
Float On Modest Mouse
Downtown Lights Annie Lennox
Let My Love Open The Door Pete Townshend
Let Go Frou Frou
Rooftops (A Liberation Broadcast) Lostprophets
Accidentally In Love Counting Crows
Real Good Looking Boy The Who
Feel The Pain Dinosaur jr.
Don't Look Back In Anger Oasis
Gymnopedie No 1 Kevin MacLeod
Life on Mars? Seu Jorge
Wake Up Coheed & Cambria
Lazy Eye Silversun Pickups
Suddenly I See KT Tunstall
Here Comes My Girl Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
Beautiful World Colin Hay
Ray Of Light (Radio Edit) Madonna
Village Dawn Kevin MacLeod
Eternal Hope Kevin MacLeod


Kevin MacLeod, by the way, offers all of his original instrumental compositions for download at http://www.incompetech.com/
I've used his stuff many times over, from my personal playlists to my video production projects.

[NaNo 2011] Day 06

Had a bit of a stumbling block yesterday, but I managed to push my way through it, and even before midnight, so the progress counted toward Day 5!

If you're wondering, here's a snapshot of my progress so far for Day 6. I managed to make it past the 10K mark very, very early this morning, and I was so pleased when I did. :) I am still currently ahead of quota, which always makes me feel better, and I hope to get even deeper into the story before I have to stop and make dinner (and eat) tonight.

When I first started this story, I did miss writing some of my other stories and characters, especially the ones for whose lives I'd been leading for the last few years. But Ross and Amber have really grown on me these past few days, not the least for the fun interactions they've got:

While she changed, Ross set himself to the task of looking for a small-sized women's wetsuit among the rental stock. But with every passing second, he kept glancing over his shoulder toward the gently rustling curtain, behind which he couldn't stop reminding himself that Amber was getting progressively more naked.

He could see her feet move beneath the curtain's edge, stepping free one at a time of first her shoes and then her ankle socks. A pause, and then there was the shift of her feet as he imagined her shimmying from her skirt; he saw her step free from the olive green clothes a moment later. And then he actually stopped and stared as she did that same little shift of her feet again, followed by a fall of light yellow pants that looked far more precious than any he'd ever seen before.

It's always great fun to write a noble hero as I've done before...but there's also something so supremely delightful about writing a regular jock, too.

If you're busily writing, I wish you the best of luck with your ebb and flow!

[NaNo 2011] Day 04

I think I've finally found just the right voice for Part 1 Ross: observant lech. :)

“Hi,” he said, with a slow and curling smile shifting automatically and effortlessly from his sullen mood of a second ago into confident pick-up mode.

The girl returned a sparkling smile of her own, her blush wine lips mesmerizing with their smoothness, fullness, and shine. He almost didn't hear her when she said hello back to him; it had been too long since he'd kissed lips that fine, or felt them rolling over his cock.

He pulled a deep breath through his nostrils, silently willing himself to slow down; it wouldn't do anything for his first impression if he popped a stiffy at her after just saying hello. That was strictly pimply-faced, squeaky-voiced teenager shit; Ross Finch was far more suave than that.

Introductions first, then; after that, they could move on to the more interesting stuff. “I'm Ross,” he said, extending one hand to her.

She took it and squeezed at his fingers. Her hands were soft, but her grip was strong, though not in a forceful way, like she was grateful for the offer, and probably the attention, too.

Fuck, this was going to be easy!

“Amber,” she told him, her smile softening. He liked that look of her, too: still eager and interested but somehow gentler, now.

“I haven't seen you around before,” he said, and, in an effort to look nonchalant, he relaxed his stance, leaning back on one elbow against the rise of the table. “You visiting someone?”

She shook her head, and he noticed of a sudden that she had subtle curls in her flaxen hair, like the glassy waves that rolled in at low tide when there was no wind. “Just moved here,” she said. “From London.”

“London,” he echoed with mild interest. So, no naïve bumpkin, then, to be beguiled simply by a devilish smile and a cocksure swagger. That was fine, though; he appreciated a bit of a challenge.

“Welcome to Harbram, then,” he said, and he smiled again, half-teasing but mostly charming. “I'd hazard to say that it's a far more enchanting place with you here, now.”

She blinked her eyes – they were a strange shade of almost brown but not quite, little leaf-green flecks scattered among the maple whole, like leaves too stubborn to vacate the branch after a frost – as though surprised. But then she grinned, dropping her gaze and her chin toward the floor as a delightful pink blush flushed her cheeks.

“I'll bet you say that to all the new girls,” she said as she raised her eyes to him again; he was pleased to see that he hadn't been imagining those dappled green specks.

“Only the pretty ones,” he admitted truthfully, and then he shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned. She'd likely heard just as silly lines in London, probably more.

She didn't walk away, though, and she didn't stop smiling. In fact, she took a step toward him, her arm touching the edge of the table. “You think I'm pretty,” she said; it didn't sound like a question.

Ross snickered; this girl was brassy, too. Nice.

7249 / 50000 words. 14% done!

[NaNo 2011] Doubt

Yesterday, I made the mistake of joining an LJ community based around NaNoWriMo. It's neat to look at everyone's methods of writing and their story ideas...but it's also a bit disheartening to see some people who are already at the 12K or even 25K mark! I'm only at about 7200 words, myself.

Don't get me wrong, though! I am really enjoying writing this story, and the first chapter is almost complete. (I hope to finish that tonight.) I just wonder how some people can be at Day 4 and already have half of their word quota done. Maybe they don't have jobs or school during the day. Or they stay up all night and write instead of sleep. Or they shut themselves off from their families.

All I know is that I'm glad I decided to go with this story over my other choices (fandom fiction, mostly). I'm happy with these characters, especially now that they're really starting to come into their own. After "only" four days. That's got to mean something, right?

Anyway, I'll be putting up an excerpt from today's efforts in just a bit.

Thanks for letting me rant! :)

[NaNo 2011] Day 03

Neville is my favorite original supporting character to come along in a long, long time:

“You're my best friend, mate,” he said. “But you are also a vain bastard bordering on narcissistic, and I know that you would like nothing more than to walk into that hall tonight and have Jade and Sam and every other woman in attendance take one look at you and decide that you are, categorically and without contention, not only the most eligible but also the most desirable heterosexual man in the entire room. And when, after an evening of showing off just how eligibly desirable you are, one of those women asks you to come home with her, you can then turn around and reject her with the unflappable self-assurance and bullet-proof ego of a handsome rogue who has nothing better to do than break pretty girls' hearts with your killer smile...because there shouldn't be any woman in her right mind who can turn down the incomparable Ross Finch and not regret that decision when she goes to bed at night.” He paused for a single breath, his gaze steady and piercing. “Do let me know if I've left anything out?”

I've gotten to the party (finally!), where Ross meets Amber, the event that signals the end of the first chapter. Not sure if I can finish the party in today's session, but I'm at least hopeful. :)

[NaNo 2011] Day 02

A random excerpt from Day 2's writing (1770 words for the day):

Neville nodded again, in Ross's direction. “Tell this glib-tongued tosser he should go to the Harvest Festival dance tonight,” he ordered.

Ross scoffed and rolled his eyes away, as Danny turned to him.

“Go to the Harvest Festival dance tonight,” the younger man echoed, then added, “...you tosser.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ross told him.

Unwilling to let the subject drop, Neville pressed pointedly of a sudden: “What else are you going to do? Stay in the flat and wank off to pictures of Kate Winslet? You can do that anytime.” He swayed on one leg, leaning in toward Ross again. “Come on, guy. Come out with the rest of us. So what if you can't pull-”

“I didn't say I couldn't pull!” Ross snorted back at him. “I said there wouldn't be anyone there worth pulling, that's all.” He glared at Danny, too, now. “That's why I'm not going. It's just a waste of time.”

There was almost a minute of silence between them, uncommon when they weren't on the water, and it made both Neville and Danny fidget and shift on their feet. Then Danny gave another shrug of his narrow shoulders.

“Suit yourself,” he said, and he turned to Neville. “You can come with me and Jade, mate.”

At that, Ross lifted his chin. “...What?” he muttered, as he narrowed his eyes at Danny. “Since when did you and Jade get together?”

Neville hissed, and there was a low smack! sound as he swatted Danny in the arm. His brown eyes flashed to Ross, as he offered something like an apologetic smile. “Ah, yeah,” he said with a drop of his shoulders. “We were going to tell you, but....”

“...It just, sort of, happened,” Danny finished with another sheepish shrug.

Ross blinked at him, feeling his chest deflate.

Dark-haired Danny Crispin was his friend...but he was also skinny as a stick, and not terribly bright: as a Year Ten, he'd barely eked his way through his maths GCSEs. He was a passable athlete, but hardly in Neville's or Ross's league; when the crew (the three of them, along with Niall and Scott) were training for the Quiksilver Skins competition, Danny almost always came in last. Working in his family's grocery, stocking fruit and veg all day in between breaks for the waves, he likely didn't clear fifteen thousand pounds in a good year.

And Jade passed on Ross for that?

Fuck, but that was a blow to the ego. Now he really did want to go back to the flat and drown his pities in a good wank....

I wasn't certain that I would be able to get into the head of a narcissistic jerk like Ross so easily...but it has turned out to be much more freeing than I'd been expecting. Maybe I have more of a vain streak in me than even I'd thought...!

Here's to a new day of writing!

[NaNo 2011] Day 01

Over the last few days, while finishing up and checking on my other writing projects, I wasn't certain I'd be able to get into writing this year's NaNo story. But after starting it today, I feel more confident. :)

It was the sudden harsh smell that blew out from the yawning hospital entrance doors that made him nearly turn on his heel and run back to Neville's car, still sitting not twenty meters away, its lights flaring in the easing rain. That unnatural, too-clean, disinfectant smell of false promises and shattered hopes.

He hated it. Hated everything it was.

But somehow, despite the warnings from his nose and from his gut, his feet kept moving, and before he quite knew what he was doing, he was leaning over the admittance desk and asking the way to the emergency department. And then he was walking – quickly, the soles of his shoes squeaking and slipping over the well-mopped floor – down one corridor and another, following the path of yellow lines he'd been told to follow.

The swinging double doors with the big block letters for “Accident & Emergency” were just ahead, but he barely registered them, instead just thrusting both arms out against the flat metal. Cold, they creaked a little when they swung open, like something broken.

Broken like a girl's lithe and delicate body, twisted on the mossy ground with her golden hair and red dress splayed around her like reflected swirls of light in a tidal pool.

Then he thought, Her dress wasn't red.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, pushing that ugly thought down deep as he stepped through the doorway. But then his stride faltered, as Sam – her eyes rimmed by dark streaks of black where her makeup had run; she'd been crying, oh, God, why had she been crying? – turned to look at him. And with a low and rumbling fury in her voice, she parted her trembling lips and spat:

“What in hell are you doing here? Haven't you done enough?”

And then, in the same second that his feet came to a stop, Ross felt his heart stop, too.

Obviously, this is my writing at its greatest level of "abandon" - meaning, without much editing or rewriting as I go. What do you think?

I'm pretty happy with this for my first day effort. Hopefully, my enthusiasm (and the comfort I have with this voice and these characters) will only become stronger over the course of the next 29 days.

If you want to keep track of my progress in numbers, I update my NaNoWriMo profile frequently:
http://bit.ly/vyEEJa

And remember: if you are also participating in NaNo this year, I'm happy to add you as a writing buddy! Let's spread the writing love!