NaNoWriMo 2018 – 37,500 Words (75% Complete!)

Yesterday was the 18th, 60% done with the month, and 75% done with NaNo! Well, 3/4 of the way to the 50k word goal, at least. I’m feeling pretty good, very pumped to continuously be ahead of the word count, and super proud for spewing out words every day, even if some days that count is paltry at best. It’s building the habit that’s important right now. I do wonder, though, if when I’m editing I should continue some kind of daily first-draft-type writing and how to balance this kind of work with the more conservative, delete-heavy, stress-out-over-every-word work that editing brings.

So here’s the way the last week looked:

Almost 12,000 words in under a week is very exciting!

I’ve done a little writing this morning, so I’m a smidgen farther than this now, but I am behind my goal of 50k by the 20th, obviously (that would be a miraculous 12k in a day. I mean, not impossible, but not bloody likely). I’m in the hardest part of the book now which is the end bits. I’m just at the edge of the climactic arc (is that a thing?), and tying everything together. I’m really excited about this part in theory because I’ve been imagining it for quite a while, but the specifics are still too vague. Just more evidence that a well-thought-out and tightly constructed outline is the way to go before banging out a first draft.

Bumping up to 20 minute sprints, I’m not seeing the jump in word count that I should be. In fact, I’m doing worse. I averaged 469 words per 15 minute sprints which works out to 31.23 words per minute, but at 20 minute sprints I’m averaging 563 words which works out to a lower 28.15 wpm. It’s very close, and I find myself checking the timer during the 20 minute sprints, worrying I didn’t start it, so they feel longer and are clearly less productive. It may behoove me to jump back down to 15 minute sprints, but I perhaps haven’t given myself enough 20 minute sprints to get into the groove. Technically I’ve only done more than one 20 minute sprint a day twice so far, so I’ll give them a few more days to work themselves out–they deserve that, though I might be done by then!

I’m developing a better voice for my characters now. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go humorous with this story, especially since I opened with a pretty dark scene, and I was trying to set up a world that was full of esoteric magic and walked the veil between life and death, but some of the concepts–like vampires and werewolves–just don’t feel right to me without an injection of self-awareness and whimsy. These characters by no means live in the same world as Vacancy, but their world can’t take itself that seriously. This does mean, though, a lot of editing is ahead of me, and finding a healthy balance between that eerie darkness that I love and recognizing that the word “fireball” is very silly.

And I’m still not sure what to do with this story when it’s edited and done. I contemplated self publishing, but that’s not an alternative to traditional publishing, it’s just a different road with a LOT of work behind it. I may release it by chapter on Wattpad, or maybe even here, or both! I hope that giving away some of my work for free will eventually develop me an audience for the future, but I also struggle with the idea that that devalues one’s work. Case in point: the 99 cent novel. I could write a whole ranty blog about that and still end on the note: I JUST DON’T KNOW.

Anyway, I’m headed back to the giant text file that Google Docs can hardly handle and am very hopeful that I’ll report #winning in a few short days. I’m headed out of state for the holiday soon, so I may get pushed out to the end of November, but I am determined. Happy writing, Dear Reader!

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NaNoWriMo 2018 – 25,000 Words (The Halfway Mark!)

First 12,500 words.

Last night I hit 25,000 words, or 25,969 (nice) to be exact! I’m halfway there and though I’m a little bit behind my goal of hitting 50k by the 20th, I think I can still make it (especially if I keep on ignoring Vacancy).

There have been a few weird days, but also some really successful days. Even on the most busy of my days, I still made sure I sat down and banged out these micro-scenes that I was able to expand on afterwards. The habit continues, and I very much don’t want to skip a single day.

nano18 pt 2

As you can see I haven’t bumped up my sprint length yet, mostly because consistency hasn’t been my strongest suit. I did write in an actual Starbucks for a few hours, but that only garnered me 574 words total so a terrible word/hour rating. I have no idea how people do that. They must get some kind of thrill from being (what they think is) watched. For me, every voice and movement was distracting, and I couldn’t talk to myself as usual, so that’s not going to happen again! Also with someone with a tiny bladder, getting up to pee and leaving your stuff really isn’t an option in public every 15 minutes.

I’ve been writing a lot more in the evenings which works for me, but I don’t prefer it. I’d like to get my words done early in the day so that if I want to write in the evening, it’s just extra. I’ve been in a really terrible sleep cycle lately though, and it’s hella hard to break.

Also as expected, things are getting murky in the middle. I do a lot of second guessing around my characters’ motivations and their actions because I feel like they’re not well defined. A big part of my issue is “is it too soon in this relationship for this thing to happen?” and I think I need to hold a mirror up to myself here: I’m writing these guys so fast that I don’t know them, but they’re getting to know one another better and spending more time together in between the pages, than I am with them over these past 13 days. Does that make sense? Hopefully after putting this draft away for a bit then coming back to it will clear everything up for me.

I’m planning on a three month cycle after this–I hope! A writing, first edit, second edit cycle, working in new drafts every three months. I think that’s reasonable, but everything looks reasonable from the outside. It’s all theoretical now, so I’ll update on how it goes. I don’t even have enough drafts right now to make it happen, so it might be a two month cycle and maybe that makes more sense? How much time between drafts? Between first draft and final draft?

I’m struggling with all this because this strict plotting thing has been such a boon, but has also thrown off everything I thought I knew about writing and my own process. I thought it was intuitive–and don’t get me wrong, I think it largely still is–but if this, this massive thing, is something I’ve been doing so wrong (for myself) all along, what else has been wrong?

I guess November isn’t the time to consider all that anyway, for right now we must write! I’d like to really overachieve today, and half the day’s already gone, so off I go!

Podcast: Vacancy 1.19 – More Fun In Packs

Episode 1.19 – More Fun In Packs

Vacancy is an ongoing web serial. Find out more about it and start reading or listening here.

Vacancy’s Theme is “Planet Bullspit” by Corey Major

Look at me, getting this done while also doing NaNo. I’m the bee’s knees this month!

Vacancy Episode 1.19 uses these sounds from freesound, all of which have been remixed. The inclusion of any sound does not indicate endorsement of this completed work or its author:

Vacancy – 2.06 – The Other Side

 Vacancy is an ongoing web serial. Find out more about it and start reading here.

v 2.06

Lorelei and Britney both scrambled behind the mirror, sliding into the tight space and smashing up against one another. Britney tried to shove Lorelei back out, but Lorelei pushed back, and they two slapped at one another as they fumbled to be completely hidden from whoever was headed their way.

The footsteps came into the room, and both girls froze, holding their breath and listening. A floorboard creaked under a silent step, then again, until finally a voice, small and feminine, “Is someone there?”

They were caught. Lorelei glanced at Britney who was glaring at her and shaking her head silently. Lorelei shrugged, and peeked out from behind the mirror. There in the center of the room stood a short girl with a round face, her hair pulled back in a knot at the back of her head and freckles spattered across her cheeks. She wore a stiff top and a striped skirt down to her ankles, and looked as though she’d stepped out of a Thanksgiving play. Of course, Lorelei realized, it may have been more likely she’d stepped into one. “Uh, hey there.”

The girl was frozen, her eyes locked on Lorelei’s, an apple in her hand hovering just before her mouth. Then her face lit up, “It worked!” She jumped in place, and laughed, “I can hardly believe my eyes!”

Britney popped out from the other side of the mirror, brow narrowed, and the girl’s smile only grew, “Two of you? By the greatest powers, I’ve done it! And just in time too!”

Lorelei stepped carefully out from behind the mirror, taking in the room again. It was simple, a bed, an armoire, and very dimly lit only by the setting sun outside. The mirror, of course, was also there, but Conrad’s figure had completely vanished and it now only showed her reflection. “In time for what?”

“The ceremony,” the girl strode up to Lorelei and grabbed the edge of her sweatshirt, running a hand over the stitching, “My word, even my magic doesn’t work as evenly as all this.”

“Wait, did you,” Britney came around the mirror looking up at it, “did you make this?”

“Of course. Well, I enchanted it,” the girl moved on to Britney, petting the woman’s curled hair and gasping as her ringlet bounced back, “What craft is this?”

Britney pushed her hand away with a scowl, “How old are you?”

“Fifteen,” she answered quickly, squatting down to inspect their pants, “And trousers! How wonderful! Now, I must know,” she jumped up again, “Tell me everything.”

Lorelei looked from the girl to Britney, but Britney was already shaking her head, “No. You’re going to tell me: why’d you make this thing?”

There was a noise from the hall, and a voice called out, “Alice? How fair thee?”

“More than fair, father!” she shouted back and scrambled for the door, closing it and turning back to the girls, “He can’t know you’re here.”

Lorelei could sense Britney’s annoyance, and stopped her before she could start, “Alice? That’s your name? What’s this ceremony?”

Alice’s eyes pulled away from the two as her shoulders fell. She took a deep breath and crossed the room to her bed, “I’m to be inducted into the order and begin training. I’ve agreed, but in truth, I’m not sure. I want to see the world, to meet new people and hear about their adventures, not be trapped in this dark little house for the rest of my life looking after some rock.”

“Rock?” Lorelei whispered, placing a finger over her lips.

“But I understand I have a duty to my family. This is what my mother would have wanted, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, that settles that,” Britney threw her hands up, “Now why’d you make a Hephastian mirror?”

“What?” the girl cocked her head, “Oh, yes, well, I would like to know what happens to this place in the future. Is it worth staying here, devoting my life to this place? Giving up my dream?”

Lorelei looked on the girl as she gently sat on the edge of her bed, her face downcast, her hands placed gently in her lap, cradling the apple. Her concerns were much too big for her tiny frame.

“Okay, great, well, everything in the future is amazing,” Britney rolled her eyes, “Space travel, Wi-Fi, green smoothies.” Alice’s face twisted in bewilderment. “And the manor is doing great, guests out the wazoo. Now, where’s the other one?”

“Other what?”

Britney took a breath, appearing to be at least trying to restrain herself, “Mirror. To send us back?”

The girl looked between the two of them, her eyes glazing over. She lifted the apple to her mouth, took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “I didn’t think of that.”

Lorelei felt her stomach flip, “You only made one?”

“Well, it took eight months!” At Alice’s words, Britney looked like she might have a coronary, so upset no words came when she opened her mouth–a first. Alice seemed to be able to sense that, “I think I can shave some time off,” her voice cracked, “I can probably get it down to four.”

“Unacceptable,” for once Lorelei was keen on Britney’s no-nonsense attitude, “We’ll finish in time for your ceremony or whatever. Between the two of us it shouldn’t be difficult.”

Alice’s eyes were bouncing back and forth between the two, “Well, the part that took the longest was gathering the ingredients. I needed a feather from a thunderbird.”

“Whatever, she can do that,” Britney gestured to Lorelei who did not like the sound of the plan at all, “In the meantime, we’ll check in as guests.”

“Guests?”

“Here. Of the manor.”

Alice tipped her head to the side, “This is my home. Tis but me, my father, and grandmother living here.”

“You mean this place isn’t a hotel?”

She looked like she didn’t know the word. Lorelei groaned: of course she didn’t.

“Do you ever put up traveling witches?”

She shook her head.

Britney glanced at Lorelei and sighed, “Time to start a tradition.”

 

Table of Contents | Next Installment – 11/12/18

Podcast: Vacancy 1.18 – Something That Was Stolen

Episode 1.18 – Something That Was Stolen

Vacancy is an ongoing web serial. Find out more about it and start reading or listening here.

Vacancy’s Theme is “Planet Bullspit” by Corey Major

Vacancy Episode 1.18 uses these sounds from freesound, all of which have been remixed. The inclusion of any sound does not indicate endorsement of this completed work or its author:

Vacancy – 2.05 – The Search

 Vacancy is an ongoing web serial. Find out more about it and start reading here.

v 2.05

If there truly were seven hells, as Ziah so frequently swore about when miffed, Lorelei was sure she’d entered at least the fifth circle.

“Ew, ew, ew, EW!” Britney’s voice echoed out into the long hall of the basement. “I just walked through another spiderweb,” she leveled her light at Lorelei, blinding her, “Don’t you ever clean down here? It’s disgusting!”

Calm down, Gwen Stefani, why did you even want to come? was what Lorelei wanted to say, but instead she offered her the sickeningly sweet smile she gave to guests who were beginning to get on her bad side, “Actually it’s the faeries in charge of the housekeeping.”

She couldn’t see Britney’s reaction, but imagined a hefty eye roll.

Conrad had stared at her dumbly for far too long when Britney quizzed him about what he and Lorelei were discussing in hushed whispers at the Harvest Festival. His brain seemed to land on the truth, and Lorelei supposed she was appreciative of that in a friend, but she was surprised to find that Conrad hadn’t told Britney anything else up until that point–not even about his brother. She was slightly less surprised when the woman declared she would be accompanying them on their search for the deed.

Arista had insisted there was no deed, and Conrad’s only clue that it might exist was the contention of his homicidal, prodigal brother, but he was more determined than ever to find it that night. Determined enough to take both Lorelei and Britney into the depth of Moonlit Shores Manor’s basement to search.

There were plenty of store rooms and closets to hunt, including doors that Conrad would point out and remark he didn’t remember which instilled very little confidence in Lorelei. But at the same time she felt a certain excitement at crossing over unknown thresholds and rummaging through unmarked boxes. Anything could be inside, even if they didn’t find the deed, and if they did, well she had no idea what that even meant.

Still empty-handed, the three entered a room down a dead end corridor that Lorelei swore hadn’t been there moments before. Inside, the walls were rough stone and there was no light to be flicked on, not even candles, ever-flickering by the manor’s magic. Their steps became more careful, scuffing quietly against the dirty stone beneath their feet, and they each inched toward a different wall.

Lorelei found a small cabinet and crouched down before it. The wood was coarse and hand-carved, but the doors fit together tightly. She pulled at the brass knob, and it gave after a hearty tug. She shone the light of her phone inside, but could see almost immediately it was empty. The sides and base of the cabinet were the same rough wood, but the back of it had been painted black, though–she cocked her head–her light didn’t reflect the way she had expected. The blackness of the back of the cabinet seemed to swallow up the light instead, and she reached out to touch the paint, intrigued to find the back was much farther from her than she perceived.

“What do you think this is?”

Lorelei turned at Britney’s voice to see her standing before a tall object draped in a heavy canvas cloth. “Not the deed,” Lorelei half whispered, though she wasn’t entirely sure of that what with everything she’d seen at the manor, but it was intriguing enough to get her to stand beside Britney and stare up at it.

Conrad circled the thing, his lips drawn into a pout and brow furrowed. It towered over even him, and Lorelei wondered how it was maneuvered down the hall and into the room in the first place. “I guess we need to see it,” he said, coming up to its side and pulling off the cloth with a great heave.

The canvas kicked up dust and Lorelei inhaled a mouthful of it. Her lungs stung and she exhaled so sharply, she lost her balance. At her side, Britney was sputtering and waving frantically at her face, and Conrad’s voice was saying something but was muffled and distorted as if he might have pulled the canvas over his own face.

Before them was a frame, as wide as the two of them standing beside one another. Polished and smooth, the wood spiraled up on both sides to meet at the top far above their heads in a point, and the bottom was flat, the whole piece suspended on a rack of sorts. Lorelei would have thought it was a massive mirror, but neither she nor Britney were reflected in the glass, and instead, she saw Conrad stepping into the frame on the other side.

“Uh oh.” His eyes were wide, his face illuminated by the dull blue of his phone.

Britney coughed once more, her tongue sticking out, “What?”

“This might be a problem.”

Lorelei squinted at him on the other side of the frame. The wall behind him was dark, even with his own light, but the room she was in felt brighter, and she thought her eyes had gotten used to the darkness. But something was…off.

The urge took her before she knew why, and Lorelei reached out, her hand stopping abruptly in the air between them, hovering just inside the frame. There was something there, a barrier, hard and smooth, and it didn’t give at all when she pushed.

“What are you doing?” Britney scoffed, her hands on her hips.

Conrad reached forward as well, rapping his knuckled solidly against the invisible barrier.

“You two,” Britney shook her head and walked around to the other side of the frame, “I just don’t–”

The woman’s voice caught in her throat. She should have appeared beside Conrad, but instead his face turned more panicked as Britney disappeared. She popped back up on the other side with a gasp, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lorelei swallowed, taking her hand away from the barrier and peering around the frame. As she expected, there was nothing but a small sliver of space between it and the wall.

“I’ve seen this before.” Lorelei came back around the mirror at Conrad’s words. “But not this one specifically.”

“How are you there, but not there,” Britney’s lips were pursed tightly, but she managed to growl, “And why are we here?” When she gestured to the room, Lorelei glanced around. It was not the place they had just been, but a bedroom, small and sparsely decorated, and she could smell something distinctly sweet coming from the hall.

“Hephaestian mirror,” Conrad sighed, “Happened to Seamus when I was thirteen. Apparently the manor’s home to a few.” He ran a hand along his side of the frame, inspecting it, “Problem is they only have one good jump in them at a time.”

“We’re stuck here?” Britney shrieked, throwing up her hands.

“No,” Conrad was quick to answer, then screwed up his face, “Well, I don’t think so. Seamus got back he just had to find the other one.”

“Well, where the hell is it?”

Conrad stared back at them sheepishly, “We destroyed it.”

“Oh my gods!” Britney crossed her arms, stomping away.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” Lorelei found her voice, glancing back from Britney to Conrad, “What exactly is going on?”

“Hephaestian mirror,” Conrad repeated, his face a bit more shadowed than a moment earlier, “They work sort of like…like the portals at the train station, but with time instead of space.”

“Like the portals? So why can’t we come back through?”

Conrad scratched the back of his head, “Way stronger magic, really complicated, usually just one way.”

Britney came storming back to the mirror, jabbing her finger into the glass, “And they destroyed our only way back!”

“No!” Conrad’s features were getting blurry, “This wasn’t the one Seamus fell into. There’s a second one somewhere on your side that will get you back, you just need to find it.”

“We don’t even know where our side is!” Britney snorted.

“Technically you do know where,” Conrad’s image was almost completely gone, “You just don’t know when.”

When I get back there, I swear–”

“Shh!” Lorelei grabbed Britney’s arm to quiet her. From beyond the bedroom, there was a creak, footsteps on floorboards, coming toward them, and they froze.

 

Table of Contents | Next Installment

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Blogoween Day 13 – Spooky NaNo Prep

blogoween

I don’t think there’s anything particularly spooky about National Novel Writing Month except maybe the bone-crushing fear of taking on such a terrifying task or the horror of putting yourself through a grueling 30 days of writing to reach 50k words. But unless you’re writing horror, or a thriller, or darker paranormal stuff, or real-life scary things, or, well, you get the picture, you’re probably not going to immerse yourself in spookiness for NaNo.

Still, we should discuss since it’s lurking just beyond the horizon of Halloween, aaaaand I need a topic for today.

I’ve written a few (well, more than a few actually) blogs about NaNo in the past:

If you don’t have time for all those, well, I don’t blame you, Dear Reader, but the gist of everything is this: I’ve never hit 50k words during actual NaNoWriMo, but I sure blog a lot about planning to! November 2017 I did manage 30k, and then last July I completed Camp NaNo, and I actually got 50k words done in 31 days! So I have a lot of confidence for this month coming up, and I’ve identified the tools I need to do it.

I hit a slump in August and September, just after wowing myself with 50k words for the first time, but surprisingly it wasn’t because I wore myself out. On the contrary, I was actually more pumped about writing in July and just after than I have been in years–I felt the invincibility that only teenagers in fast cars feel–it’s just that the rest of life got in the way. So near the end of September I formulated a plan:

  • October: Blogoween and catching up with Vacancy
  • November: National Novel Writing Month with a completely new project
  • December: Edit She’s All Thaumaturgy (working title, 2018 Camp NaNo project)

October is meant to be prep month for NaNo-ers, Preptober, I think? So to warm up my creative juices, I decided to blog every day. Sticking to a daily writing/creative task is good practice regardless of if you’re working toward something, honestly, and for me it’s been a way to sort of clear out the cobwebs (ooh, I see we are getting a bit spoopy, huh?)

And of course the other point of Preptober is planning your novel. I’ve learned that I am absolutely not a pantser like I believed for so many years (it was a bit like finding out I was a Hufflepuff and not a Ravenclaw like I thought for so long), but I’ve been torn the last couple weeks on which plot to pick: I have two projects that could neatly fit themselves into the month 1) The Last House on Magic Lane and 2) This One’s Embarrassingly About Vampires and Werewolves. (Neither of these are even working titles, they’re just what I’m calling them for this post, but there is a part of me that kind of wants to be the author who titles her books these things.)

Last House is something I came up with quite a while ago–it’s another story about a charmed place, as I am so wont to do, and has a complex history and soap opera feel to it. In fact, I originally conceived of it as another serial that I wanted to be a long and complex parody of a soap opera, told from many viewpoints spanning a few generations, but I’ve since scaled it back to a one-off. The story does lend itself, though, to a possible trilogy, and might be better served that way, so it may not be the best contender for NaNo. Right now, this book is a collection of scenes and an overall mythology, but a lot of the motives and characters are not neatly defined.

Embarrassing is kind of the total opposite: it’s a much newer idea, the plot is reliant on a much smaller cast moving from pace to place, and it’s absolutely a one-off. The other pro to Embarrassing is that I have the plot and characters almost entirely mapped out; Last House would require significantly more work to get it to the same place. So the choice seems easy, right? Except it’s not because Embarrassing is exactly that: EMBARRASSING. Well, okay, not really, but it falls squarely into young adult paranormal romance territory (I mean, I have it saved in a folder called “Wattpad” on my Google Drive, for goodness sake!), and my fear is that I’ll fall into all the easiest tropes and cheesiest writing if I go with this story. But maybe that’s who I am and I should embrace it? It’s just a first draft, after all, and I can trash it if I want, but I’d really like this to be something I can come back to in a few months (like I will be doing in December) and rework into something publishable.

Then again, maybe Embarrassing, like Blogoween, is exactly what I need right now. Maybe I need to purge these ideas and words from my system. And maybe it will end up being great after all?

I should probably not rush Last House. With only 18 days to go in October (and a LOT of crazy life stuff happening in that short time) I don’t know that I could even successfully plot out where I would want the story to go over the course of a single novel anyway, and I’d ultimately probably feel like I was cheating myself and the story if I cut out all the grandiose plans I had for it. So, I guess that settles it? This One Is Embarrassingly About Vampires and Werewolves it is? Have I talked myself into it?

Well, I guess so. Now to finish fleshing out the plot, and crossing all my appendages that I can shit out enough words in November to make it count!