I actually wrote a lot this weekend and nearly caught up entirely. But being home now for two hours and I still can't bring myself to write. I'm desperately tired of the questions I have for this story, and just want to write something new now. Bah. Or start over on the whole thing. That wouldn't be so bad, now that I've got the idea straight in my head... except for maybe 9 of the 20 scenes... grr.
And it's almost the end of november and I've not written the climax of the book, nor the ending!
I think next nano I'm going to try and outline a story from beginning to end. Just to make sure I hit the '3 acts' and have that climax in the story at the right time. I will be editing this story at some point, but definitely not until January.
Ugh. I was going to do a 10x3s prompt, but now I'm yawning and eyeing my comfy bed and noting how early I'll have to get up... gym before-or after- work? oh that's easy, I can't go to the gym after, it'll be closed. well boo, then off to sleep and gym early in the morning. Writing more later tomorrow night. I'll get it done, if not by the last minute with some really horrible writing happening ! yikes !
Where I'm showing off parts of my novel, and process, for NaNoWrimo 2011.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
word sprint with skype group - 592
While I may write the fastest in a sprint, I surely don't write the most. Both of my contenders are close or over 50k, while I am squeezing into the 30s. Ah well, I do what I can :)
A bit bruised, and quite put-out, Lucy’s ego wondered why he wouldn’t look at her. She loved looking at him. She started to poke him in the side, one, two, three little jabs all up and down his ribs. And he still didn’t look at her. Then she started to wiggle her finger up under his arm, trying to tickle him under his armpit. Even though he wiggled around, he still didn’t look at her. She started to pout, a big fake pouty lip protruding from her mouth, and made a few whining sounds as if he had hurt her feelings. The sounds elicited no response from him but a half-assed side kick in her general direction. She wondered if he really was interested in washing dishes at all, then she spun around in her chair and started playing a rhythm on the table with some silverware. Tap-da-tap tap, bud da da da, Tap-da-tap tap, bud da da da. The sky grew dark outside and the wind started to blow faster now, with a cold chill suspended on the end of the breeze. The kitchen’s window was open a crack and the brief gust caused the napkins to fly around the kitchen in an impromptu dance mid-air.
Keeping it going - 2157
I am roughly 3 days behind now. I think at this stage in the game, with my story not really following any canon or timeline, I'm just going to keep my goal of "FINISHING" in mind, and continue to write. I realize that my first story won't be amazing, and that I probably will have to edit like mad on this story in the next couple of months. But that doesn't mean I'm not bummed by my inability to keep a storyline together. How do these writers do it? Have an idea for new technology, and never falter on what all the ins/outs, pros and cons are? I seem to start writing scenes not realizing at first that I have said the completely opposite for a character previously. Oh well, I suppose it's all a learned skill.
Excerpt is below:
As I’m trying to decipher just what exactly she meant, I walk down the tiny aisle of chargers and look for any signs denoting car-phone chargers. I am so caught up in my search for the charger that I don’t hear the movement on the other side of the shelves. I pull a package closer to me to read the specifics and catch a glimpse of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Taken aback, but not startled by the sudden life form in front of me, I just stand there, entranced, waiting for the eyes to blink. Another 30 seconds go by, and neither of us blinks, but finally I clear my throat and say “Hi, umm, my name's Lucy.”
Excerpt is below:
As I’m trying to decipher just what exactly she meant, I walk down the tiny aisle of chargers and look for any signs denoting car-phone chargers. I am so caught up in my search for the charger that I don’t hear the movement on the other side of the shelves. I pull a package closer to me to read the specifics and catch a glimpse of the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Taken aback, but not startled by the sudden life form in front of me, I just stand there, entranced, waiting for the eyes to blink. Another 30 seconds go by, and neither of us blinks, but finally I clear my throat and say “Hi, umm, my name's Lucy.”
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Fun Test at http://iwl.me
Pasting in my excerpt from 11/7 I found that I...
Very interesting site. I wonder what the underlying algorithm is for such a test. Surely the site creators did not parse through all the text of those authors and then star a couple of words/phrases and compare the statistics to my excerpt. Maybe, but unlikely.
Very interesting site. I wonder what the underlying algorithm is for such a test. Surely the site creators did not parse through all the text of those authors and then star a couple of words/phrases and compare the statistics to my excerpt. Maybe, but unlikely.
Trying to keep up - 4101
I have been slacking big time and planning for many more friend hang outs than writing moments. I am somewhat tired of my story. Mainly I'm not finding it easy to write. So I want to write something else, but that's not what this competition is about. So I've been waiting until I feel up for writing more about this story. I will, and must, stay on topic. It is a determination and focus test. If I let myself leave the story now, then I'll always leave the story when it gets hard. More and more I realize how unorganized I am with it though. So I am always spending time finding pieces I wrote on other days, having emailed the pieces to myself, and adding them in to my story when I can. If I had a clear idea about what story I want to tell with these characters and this pandemic, then it would be easier to jump right in. But I think I'm changing the type of disease again, so the people will be more like 28 days later zombies, and not just spiteful degenerates. meh. I'm not going to give an excerpt cause it's late and I'd like to go to sleep.
I've been reading the hunger games (just finished today) and thus was unable to write. I think when I'm so involved in a story of another authors writing, I can't separate myself. Something I'll have to work on.
I've been reading the hunger games (just finished today) and thus was unable to write. I think when I'm so involved in a story of another authors writing, I can't separate myself. Something I'll have to work on.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
15 minute word wars while breaking at work - 1301
I was able to take a couple breaks at work today and found a nano buddy to do two 15 minute word wars with me around 3 and then again at 4. It jump started my writing ability again, and I rocked that scene!
Well I rocked writing words down. But the scene itself may need some tweaking. I tend to linger on introducing characters. So what should be a quick flat out "this is who I am" paragraph, turns out to be a chapter length of me introducing a character. May not be so bad if the rest of my book is equally as drawn out :P
Excerpt follows below.
Well I rocked writing words down. But the scene itself may need some tweaking. I tend to linger on introducing characters. So what should be a quick flat out "this is who I am" paragraph, turns out to be a chapter length of me introducing a character. May not be so bad if the rest of my book is equally as drawn out :P
Excerpt follows below.
When she returned with the muffins, and some freshly made coffee, she knew instantly something was wrong. Not only had the line for the check-in to the island stopped moving, but it had grown and circled the parking lot. Either the disease was spreading faster than they originally thought, or something had happened to Frank. She raced over to the check-in point, flashed her cheaply printed badge, and ran into the medical tent looking for him frantically. He was sitting down. He seemed to have stopped his work, but still had a smile on his face. She breathed a sigh of relief, he couldn’t be happy if he contracted the disease, surely he would feel death on his door if he had. But then he saw her, a young girl, of about 4 years, and she was hugging him around his neck. Such a sweet and tender moment and then she realized, he was set for death. His smile was a result of the price he paid for death. The price he paid to give this poor sick 4 year old angel one of the last hugs she would ever feel in her lifetime.
Missed day x 3
Bleh. I found myself too busy to write for the past three nights, although I had plenty of time to socialize with some fellow wrimos :P
Monday, November 14, 2011
10x3S - Flamingo
To get into the act of writing tonight, I'll delve a bit into the fantastical, with the below image of flamingo glasses. Hopefully this will cheer me up and I'll start writing faster!
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'flamingo'
- flamingo. by Senju-HiMe
- Time start, 8:09pm
The bells were ringing, the fire was glowing, even the white puffy snow outside was still falling.
I ran to my mum, and asked her three questions.
What's for dinner - Where's my teddy - When's Aunt Crisha going to get here?
My mother, patient and still as a statue, was being rocked by the chair, back and forth, as she looked out the window at the falling magic.
I tugged on her skirt a bit until she smoothed out my hair and said "Yummy duck, darling."
I ran to the kitchen, my next victim bent over the stove,
Dad! - Where's my teddy -When's Aunt Crisha going to get here?
Teddy? I thought I heard teddy a couple minutes ago, something about being "too HOT and YUMmy"?
Teddy! I exclaimed, and ran to the oven but then in the corner of my eye I caught sight of teddy on a chair by the front door.
Just as I walked over to pick up teddy the door blew open, and in a whirl of white puffy spots there was a tall gangly woman with bright cherry lips, piercing blue eyes, and pink flamingo glasses; Aunty Crisha!
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'flamingo'
- flamingo. by Senju-HiMe
- Time start, 8:09pm
The bells were ringing, the fire was glowing, even the white puffy snow outside was still falling.
I ran to my mum, and asked her three questions.
What's for dinner - Where's my teddy - When's Aunt Crisha going to get here?
My mother, patient and still as a statue, was being rocked by the chair, back and forth, as she looked out the window at the falling magic.
I tugged on her skirt a bit until she smoothed out my hair and said "Yummy duck, darling."
I ran to the kitchen, my next victim bent over the stove,
Dad! - Where's my teddy -When's Aunt Crisha going to get here?
Teddy? I thought I heard teddy a couple minutes ago, something about being "too HOT and YUMmy"?
Teddy! I exclaimed, and ran to the oven but then in the corner of my eye I caught sight of teddy on a chair by the front door.
Just as I walked over to pick up teddy the door blew open, and in a whirl of white puffy spots there was a tall gangly woman with bright cherry lips, piercing blue eyes, and pink flamingo glasses; Aunty Crisha!
Failing my lofty weekend goals - 4,206
There was a really nice pep talk from an OLL rep. and it led me to start a thread in the forums based on her idea of 'write it, or reveal it!', and I had to reveal in both situations. :(
First I said I would reach 20k by the end of the regional Write-in (saturday), which was about 4k total to do. I did 1k I think, not sure, and called it a day. Who knew I'd be busy eating lunch and meeting people? I think they should call it a meet-up, not a write-in!
While it was fun meeting new people, and feeling like there was actually a community out there, I didn't meet that first goal so I revealed my favorite drinking game to the thread and mentioned an embarrassing moment from it.
Then, yesterday, I told the thread I would sequester myself to my room and reach 25k. This also did not happen, for lack of desire to write such a horrible scene (The MC visits her old flame who now looks like the walking dead). I actually didn't even reach 20k yet. Bummer. Now I have to reveal some bad writing. I'm sure I've got loads of it. :P
In either case, here is an excerpt from yesterday's writing. Which may very well be changed because I was too much of a wuss to make the guy look and act like a zombie.
The older woman seemed to be weighing her own thoughts before she broke into Lucy’s revelry and said “The one’s we loved are nevermore, this disease has left empty shells of those people. The one’s we visit now are only gateways to reconciling our issues with our lost loves.”
First I said I would reach 20k by the end of the regional Write-in (saturday), which was about 4k total to do. I did 1k I think, not sure, and called it a day. Who knew I'd be busy eating lunch and meeting people? I think they should call it a meet-up, not a write-in!
While it was fun meeting new people, and feeling like there was actually a community out there, I didn't meet that first goal so I revealed my favorite drinking game to the thread and mentioned an embarrassing moment from it.
Then, yesterday, I told the thread I would sequester myself to my room and reach 25k. This also did not happen, for lack of desire to write such a horrible scene (The MC visits her old flame who now looks like the walking dead). I actually didn't even reach 20k yet. Bummer. Now I have to reveal some bad writing. I'm sure I've got loads of it. :P
In either case, here is an excerpt from yesterday's writing. Which may very well be changed because I was too much of a wuss to make the guy look and act like a zombie.
“Well… he was my boyfriend… I suppose… but he got sick a couple years ago, when the disease first hit, and the last time I visited… oh,” she frowned at the revelation, “over 7 months ago now, he tried to spread the disease to me and I couldn’t take it. It just wasn’t “him”; if you know what I mean” and she started to trail her eyes down towards her shoes, thinking about how Oliver had almost knowingly infected her.
Her feelings weren’t of rage this time, not like they were 7 months ago; this time she felt regret, a pang of guilt for not becoming infected with him so she could stay with him. She thought about her life currently, quite lonely and dark, and realized she might have made the wrong choice to come back and see him. He may have moved on by now, probably gathered a new family, and he wouldn’t want to be reminded of how she had rejected him at his most dire moment in life. He wouldn’t want to see her healthy body, if his own had started to deteriorate. The emotions started to flood her face as she thought about how selfish she had been, keeping herself healthy and quarantined from him.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Word Wars and new Buddies - 2447
It was a long night (9-1) doing word wars with some new NaNo buddies, and then reformatting the small story bits I had in my email, and other documents. I finally got it all in one place, but it looks like my total count is off somehow, I'm thinking it's from my correction of the speech to text story bits. Either way, I've finally made it over 15k! W00t! Lots more to do tomorrow :)
Excerpt follows below!
Seeing Lucy there, in her bright red corduroy coat, and her cream tweed knit cap, he almost fell to his knees thinking he had transported back in time and his health had returned. He felt her desire, even from 15 feet away, and saw the excited look in her eyes before she caved. He hated it when she caved. She was such a strong woman, he mused, she was always stronger than she needed to be, and he admired her for that. Seeing the tears stream down her face, he lucidly watched her porcelain face become blotchy and hot from the feelings pouring out of her. No sobs would be heard, no gasps for air, just the quiet tick of tears falling from her jawline to the solid cold ground beneath her. She stared at him for what seemed an eternity; blinking from time to time to let the salty tears leave her eyes. He fell in love with her in that moment, all over again. This moment was no different from his previous life, he thought. There had been plenty of times when he caught sight of Lucy downtown or in the office and had wanted to scoop her up in his arms, wanted to nuzzle his face on top of her head. He was accustomed to taking his emotions off-line for those moments when it wouldn’t be appropriate to dote on her. She had never quite caught on to that game. In fact she had frequently been angered by his chastity in social situations. She found him at fault and blamed him for not displaying his love correctly, as if there was one correct way to show someone you cared. She was head-strong and full of emotion, something he marveled at whenever they got the chance to be alone. Just like now, the two of them, alone on the hillside, with the mountains to her back, and the camp to his. They were as alone as they’d ever be in this life, and she was proving to be one head-strong, passionate hellfire. His mouth twitched in a sideways smirk as his shoulders bounced from a quick exhale from her attitude at this moment, and how inappropriate but perfectly “her” it was. And he gave her a wink full of thanks to show his appreciation.
Excerpt follows below!
Friday, November 11, 2011
10x3S - Snow
Parameters:
10 sentences
10 minutes
1 image from Deviant Art (photography section)
-search for image based on one word and pick an image from the first page of results.
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'Snow'
- Snow by Clyme
- Time start, 9:27pm
Off-center little man, maybe there's something he isn't sure about.
When the snow falls all around him, and his body faces the open street, but his gaze is carried down to a crack in the wall.
A crack that appears to be glowing, a warm red hue.
The shimmer fills him with joy, calling to memory the holidays passed.
The happiness of being surrounded by family, friends, gifts, thankfulness, it all seems so far away now.
Deep within the crack of the building.
A taxi drives past in a screaming blur, but the little man is still eyeing the crack, hoping to unlock the secrets it holds.
The secret that one day he'll be an old man, and have family of his own.
The realization that his life is in front of him, not in the past.
The comfort of knowing he's loved, even when alone on a street corner.
10 sentences
10 minutes
1 image from Deviant Art (photography section)
-search for image based on one word and pick an image from the first page of results.
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'Snow'
- Snow by Clyme
- Time start, 9:27pm
Off-center little man, maybe there's something he isn't sure about.
When the snow falls all around him, and his body faces the open street, but his gaze is carried down to a crack in the wall.
A crack that appears to be glowing, a warm red hue.
The shimmer fills him with joy, calling to memory the holidays passed.
The happiness of being surrounded by family, friends, gifts, thankfulness, it all seems so far away now.
Deep within the crack of the building.
A taxi drives past in a screaming blur, but the little man is still eyeing the crack, hoping to unlock the secrets it holds.
The secret that one day he'll be an old man, and have family of his own.
The realization that his life is in front of him, not in the past.
The comfort of knowing he's loved, even when alone on a street corner.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
10x3S- Blue
Parameters:
10 sentences
10 minutes
1 image from Deviant Art (photography section)
-search for image based on one word and pick an image from the first page of results.
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'Blue'
- Into the Blue by Magnesina
- Time start, 6:25pm
A world so big, you could be swallowed whole if you didn't watch out.
And I don't watch out.
I have a problem seeing the bigger picture, some say that's a good thing, my experiences tell me otherwise.
The small details become heavy after a while.
After a while, I forget about the end state, the goal, the result, and lose sight of "why".
My sight is stunted from this detailed view, and my life is impacted because of it.
The isolation is unbearable at times; I must be the only person in this world, I'm definitely the only one I see.
The minutiae turns into a vast infinite landscape before me, with always another line to be seen, always another curve to investigate.
I get lost most days; scared, lonely, without purpose... then my eyes are surprised to find an even smaller detail, and even smaller world within the closed-set I view.
And I realize, I'm not lost.
10 sentences
10 minutes
1 image from Deviant Art (photography section)
-search for image based on one word and pick an image from the first page of results.
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'Blue'
- Into the Blue by Magnesina
- Time start, 6:25pm
A world so big, you could be swallowed whole if you didn't watch out.
And I don't watch out.
I have a problem seeing the bigger picture, some say that's a good thing, my experiences tell me otherwise.
The small details become heavy after a while.
After a while, I forget about the end state, the goal, the result, and lose sight of "why".
My sight is stunted from this detailed view, and my life is impacted because of it.
The isolation is unbearable at times; I must be the only person in this world, I'm definitely the only one I see.
The minutiae turns into a vast infinite landscape before me, with always another line to be seen, always another curve to investigate.
I get lost most days; scared, lonely, without purpose... then my eyes are surprised to find an even smaller detail, and even smaller world within the closed-set I view.
And I realize, I'm not lost.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Missed day
I missed yesterday, I had an awful headache after getting home from work, and chose to lay down which ended up me sleeping while watching a movie. The movie was called "AHHH! ZOMBIES!" and it was in the perspective of a zombie, something some nanoers were talking about recently on the forums. Loads of fun, deftly stupid. The main actor was one of Bone's interns! Very cool.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Dares and word wars -1339
In a fit of not knowing whether I'd be able to keep up the writing, I challenged some people to word wars, and found an interesting idea from a dare on the forums of NaNoWriMo. Thank goodness for those people, or else I might have given up on today and just played Halo for a couple hours. In 30 minutes I wrote 700 or so words, but kept going after the word war because I was REALLY into this scene. I feel it's my best work yet, I was able to describe things, and thought of words quickly, which is always really hard for me. I enjoyed this scene so much (happy to have a full scene fleshed out beginning to end), that I decided to share it all here with you! Thanks go out to akaJoska for the awesome dare idea. :)
It was that old familiar sight, the county grocery store. Rickety shutters covering brick walls to give the look of windows, when really the building was a dark box with only a store-front window and glass door. Frederick had worked at one of these for more than half of his young life. He rather believed them to be an original American institution. He lamented the fact that he never got a raise, nor a promotion, “Grocery Store Clerk for the win!” -that was his motto. With the others scoping out the trail of vehicles in the parking lot, he decided to venture inside to look for any leftovers. Walking through the broken glass door, being careful not to cut himself on any of the pointy shards, he peered over at the registers and noted how similar they were to the machines they had, worked with in Wilkesboro. He didn’t bother telling Lucy about his past, and why should he? It was a boring waste of a life, one he hadn’t seen as a waste until the Z0M8 virus hit his town. He looked around the front of the store, no movement besides his own, seemed safe enough. He eyed an opened package of ginger snap cookies, the kind his mother used to make during the holiday season. The thought of his mother and the holidays gave him a twinge of remorse for the current state of affairs, and he thought he would honor her by snacking on a few of those sweet reminiscent morsels. He tore the plastic open just a bit more to look at how many cookies were left. A good amount of the package had gone undisturbed so he grabbed one from the front and slowly brought it up to his lips. Licking his lips out of habit, and widening his eyes as he shoved the whole cookie into his mouth. Initially, his mind shot happiness and comfort through his body, and he let out a small sigh with his mouth full, closed, and his throat vibrating a solid “Mmmmm”. But within seconds, he knew. He tasted an ashy, bitter, filthy flavor that instantly shot back feelings of fear, anger, and surprise. He spit the cookies out with his hands spread far out from his body, and his legs spread in a warrior stance, tottering on the tip of his toes, shoving his head forward but keeping his body pulled back. He tried his best to spit the cookies out without letting any parts touch his mouth more than they already had. His tongue was wildly moving up and down, trying to move out of the way of the nasty remnants. He grabbed for his water bottle, but with too much haste, threw it, three aisles down towards the deli section. He ran to the bottle with tears streaming down his face, he knew he was too late but he still scrambled for the water. He ripped off the cap and threw it away from him as he dumped the bottle over his face. His mouth, wide open like a fish, praying for a cleanse from the clear, healthy, water. Quickly, his mouth swished the liquid in and out of his cheeks, forward and backward from teeth to throat, and he expelled the sickly Decay from his mouth in one last fit of fear, spraying the water all over the news stand magazines in front of him. Breathing heavily, and expelling more saliva every three seconds, he thought back to the devastation that occurred when the virus ran like a wild-fire through his small town. It was like a light-bulb shattering in his mind, but then it wasn’t in his mind at all, it was shattering right in front of him. His expectorant had clung to one of the hot lamps above him, and exploded from the unexpected change in temperature. The explosion of the glass coupled with the loud sounds he had been making with the water and cookies had roused the few Decay that made the grocery store their home. Unaware of how many Decay were in his vicinity, Frederick grabbed for his machete and started swinging wildly. His blade caught hard in something behind his shoulder and he yanked it back in order to stumble away and gain a better view of his assailants. He noted four wretched, long-haired Decay in rags billowing below their knees, and two skinny, short Decay covered in packaging that stuck to their torn flesh at all angles. Quickly he withdrew his sidearm and shot the two closest wretched Decay, one, right above the left eye, the other, sharply in the thick of the neck. Both went down. The remainder wretched foul Decay was further back than the two short packaged Decay. He giggled to himself, a crazy high-pitched, sorrowful giggle at the sight of the two absurdly wrapped short Decay. One of those poor souls even had a Maxim cover pasted onto it’s torso, he noted. I wasn’t enough to giggle at them though, they didn’t care what they looked like; for them life ceased to be livable, life wasn’t about looks or skills or thoughts, it was agonizing. It was unfair. The Decay with the Maxim cover tacked to it’s torso was solely thinking of how it could take Frederick down. How it could share it’s damnation with him. Frederick knew this, but was giggling more so because he had already brought damnation into his life; the moment he popped those tainted, retributive, ginger snap cookies into his mouth. His piercing laughter had alarmed the crew outside and they came rushing in. Lucy cleared the broken doorway in a deft leap and ran to a halt just as Frederick finished slicing the head off of the Maxim labeled Decay. The other short Decay was quickly upon Freddie, but he was more interested in the last wretched dilly. She, if he could be so bold as to claim that’s what it was, had lost all of her fingers, and most of her leg muscles. The rest of her was covered in rags, presumably of a torn velvety dress. Her face was contorted and smashed on one side, making her grin wave from left to right, as if in a Salvador Dali painting. Something about her grin, made him angry, and even with the short childlike Decay hanging off his left shoulder, he was more interested in taking down the she-devil in front of him. In a disturbing way, he believed she had left those cookies out for him, for HIM. He had enough with her mocking grin, and threw the childlike Decay off his back, reached around his left side and pulled out his shotgun. Three quick blows to the torso before Lucy speak a word, and the wretched woman-ish Decay was down. Quickly he eyed Lucy, who looked shocked- or was it proud- as he swung around to finish off the last little Decay with his last loud bullet. Slowly, he turned around, eyes down, and started to walk over to her, the healthy, dignified Lucy. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the hesitation in his steps. She could already see the scratch marks crossing over his left clavicle, so he knew she wouldn’t risk the chance of touching him. He started to remove his jacket as he opened his mouth, amazed his voice was still carrying that high pitched chitter. He closed his mouth, and stopped cold. After a big exhale, he shrugged off the vest, and kicked it over in Lucy’s direction. He had wanted to say more before the end, nothing about love or desire; he had just wanted to say more. But when it came down to it, he thought it would be poetic to leave in mystery and glamour. So as he pulled the shotgun barrel up to face his chin, finger on the trigger, still not regarding Lucy in the doorway, he plainly said this:
“Stay away from the cookies.”
It was that old familiar sight, the county grocery store. Rickety shutters covering brick walls to give the look of windows, when really the building was a dark box with only a store-front window and glass door. Frederick had worked at one of these for more than half of his young life. He rather believed them to be an original American institution. He lamented the fact that he never got a raise, nor a promotion, “Grocery Store Clerk for the win!” -that was his motto. With the others scoping out the trail of vehicles in the parking lot, he decided to venture inside to look for any leftovers. Walking through the broken glass door, being careful not to cut himself on any of the pointy shards, he peered over at the registers and noted how similar they were to the machines they had, worked with in Wilkesboro. He didn’t bother telling Lucy about his past, and why should he? It was a boring waste of a life, one he hadn’t seen as a waste until the Z0M8 virus hit his town. He looked around the front of the store, no movement besides his own, seemed safe enough. He eyed an opened package of ginger snap cookies, the kind his mother used to make during the holiday season. The thought of his mother and the holidays gave him a twinge of remorse for the current state of affairs, and he thought he would honor her by snacking on a few of those sweet reminiscent morsels. He tore the plastic open just a bit more to look at how many cookies were left. A good amount of the package had gone undisturbed so he grabbed one from the front and slowly brought it up to his lips. Licking his lips out of habit, and widening his eyes as he shoved the whole cookie into his mouth. Initially, his mind shot happiness and comfort through his body, and he let out a small sigh with his mouth full, closed, and his throat vibrating a solid “Mmmmm”. But within seconds, he knew. He tasted an ashy, bitter, filthy flavor that instantly shot back feelings of fear, anger, and surprise. He spit the cookies out with his hands spread far out from his body, and his legs spread in a warrior stance, tottering on the tip of his toes, shoving his head forward but keeping his body pulled back. He tried his best to spit the cookies out without letting any parts touch his mouth more than they already had. His tongue was wildly moving up and down, trying to move out of the way of the nasty remnants. He grabbed for his water bottle, but with too much haste, threw it, three aisles down towards the deli section. He ran to the bottle with tears streaming down his face, he knew he was too late but he still scrambled for the water. He ripped off the cap and threw it away from him as he dumped the bottle over his face. His mouth, wide open like a fish, praying for a cleanse from the clear, healthy, water. Quickly, his mouth swished the liquid in and out of his cheeks, forward and backward from teeth to throat, and he expelled the sickly Decay from his mouth in one last fit of fear, spraying the water all over the news stand magazines in front of him. Breathing heavily, and expelling more saliva every three seconds, he thought back to the devastation that occurred when the virus ran like a wild-fire through his small town. It was like a light-bulb shattering in his mind, but then it wasn’t in his mind at all, it was shattering right in front of him. His expectorant had clung to one of the hot lamps above him, and exploded from the unexpected change in temperature. The explosion of the glass coupled with the loud sounds he had been making with the water and cookies had roused the few Decay that made the grocery store their home. Unaware of how many Decay were in his vicinity, Frederick grabbed for his machete and started swinging wildly. His blade caught hard in something behind his shoulder and he yanked it back in order to stumble away and gain a better view of his assailants. He noted four wretched, long-haired Decay in rags billowing below their knees, and two skinny, short Decay covered in packaging that stuck to their torn flesh at all angles. Quickly he withdrew his sidearm and shot the two closest wretched Decay, one, right above the left eye, the other, sharply in the thick of the neck. Both went down. The remainder wretched foul Decay was further back than the two short packaged Decay. He giggled to himself, a crazy high-pitched, sorrowful giggle at the sight of the two absurdly wrapped short Decay. One of those poor souls even had a Maxim cover pasted onto it’s torso, he noted. I wasn’t enough to giggle at them though, they didn’t care what they looked like; for them life ceased to be livable, life wasn’t about looks or skills or thoughts, it was agonizing. It was unfair. The Decay with the Maxim cover tacked to it’s torso was solely thinking of how it could take Frederick down. How it could share it’s damnation with him. Frederick knew this, but was giggling more so because he had already brought damnation into his life; the moment he popped those tainted, retributive, ginger snap cookies into his mouth. His piercing laughter had alarmed the crew outside and they came rushing in. Lucy cleared the broken doorway in a deft leap and ran to a halt just as Frederick finished slicing the head off of the Maxim labeled Decay. The other short Decay was quickly upon Freddie, but he was more interested in the last wretched dilly. She, if he could be so bold as to claim that’s what it was, had lost all of her fingers, and most of her leg muscles. The rest of her was covered in rags, presumably of a torn velvety dress. Her face was contorted and smashed on one side, making her grin wave from left to right, as if in a Salvador Dali painting. Something about her grin, made him angry, and even with the short childlike Decay hanging off his left shoulder, he was more interested in taking down the she-devil in front of him. In a disturbing way, he believed she had left those cookies out for him, for HIM. He had enough with her mocking grin, and threw the childlike Decay off his back, reached around his left side and pulled out his shotgun. Three quick blows to the torso before Lucy speak a word, and the wretched woman-ish Decay was down. Quickly he eyed Lucy, who looked shocked- or was it proud- as he swung around to finish off the last little Decay with his last loud bullet. Slowly, he turned around, eyes down, and started to walk over to her, the healthy, dignified Lucy. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the hesitation in his steps. She could already see the scratch marks crossing over his left clavicle, so he knew she wouldn’t risk the chance of touching him. He started to remove his jacket as he opened his mouth, amazed his voice was still carrying that high pitched chitter. He closed his mouth, and stopped cold. After a big exhale, he shrugged off the vest, and kicked it over in Lucy’s direction. He had wanted to say more before the end, nothing about love or desire; he had just wanted to say more. But when it came down to it, he thought it would be poetic to leave in mystery and glamour. So as he pulled the shotgun barrel up to face his chin, finger on the trigger, still not regarding Lucy in the doorway, he plainly said this:
“Stay away from the cookies.”
Sunday, November 6, 2011
10x3S - pre-writing
This post begins my attempt at a 10 sentence short story based (10x3S) off of an image I find from Deviant Art.
I'm giving myself the following parameters and hopefully this will broaden my thoughts in writing and loosen me up for more NaNo writing (which I need to do) :)
Parameters:
10 sentences
10 minutes
1 image from Deviant Art (photography section)
-search for image based on one word and pick an image from the first page of results.
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'Purple'
- Purple by Mr-Current
- Time start, 6:21pm
It was her time, like all those who came before her- it was the ritual covering that would allow her access to the cities.
Like all young adults before her, Sophia calmly stood at attention, waiting for the cold wave of purple exudation to splash down over her naked body.
The ritual was completed in a small oval room with no windows.
Her family and friends were allowed to watch, as was customary.
Sophia insisted on wearing her eye makeup, she remembered an older classmate once mention the lack of cosmetics in the cities.
Her family would be sad to see her go, but it was her choice to investigate the young urban worlds.
At least she hadn't run off in the middle of the night, doomed to be an outcast of both worlds.
At the least she had agreed to the governmental formalities and would become a dual citizen of both territories.
At the end of the process she would be featureless for three years, save for the vibrant eyeshadow she applied over her beige-brown eyes, and the characteristic purple pigment of her skin.
The purple latex covering was not only a safe-guard for the harsh city environments, it was also her permit to work as a therapist on the famed Air Boys of the Universe ZZ dirigible.
I'm giving myself the following parameters and hopefully this will broaden my thoughts in writing and loosen me up for more NaNo writing (which I need to do) :)
Parameters:
10 sentences
10 minutes
1 image from Deviant Art (photography section)
-search for image based on one word and pick an image from the first page of results.
Today's 10x3S is:
- Based on the word 'Purple'
- Purple by Mr-Current
- Time start, 6:21pm
Like all young adults before her, Sophia calmly stood at attention, waiting for the cold wave of purple exudation to splash down over her naked body.
The ritual was completed in a small oval room with no windows.
Her family and friends were allowed to watch, as was customary.
Sophia insisted on wearing her eye makeup, she remembered an older classmate once mention the lack of cosmetics in the cities.
Her family would be sad to see her go, but it was her choice to investigate the young urban worlds.
At least she hadn't run off in the middle of the night, doomed to be an outcast of both worlds.
At the least she had agreed to the governmental formalities and would become a dual citizen of both territories.
At the end of the process she would be featureless for three years, save for the vibrant eyeshadow she applied over her beige-brown eyes, and the characteristic purple pigment of her skin.
The purple latex covering was not only a safe-guard for the harsh city environments, it was also her permit to work as a therapist on the famed Air Boys of the Universe ZZ dirigible.
Speech-to-Text Success - 6289
So I drove for four hours over the past two days, and without any chance for typing time when I reached my destinations- I decided to give the windows 7 speech recognition a chance.
My first 2 hours are probably 60% trashed, at least the few sentences I read through were...
But my last 2 hours looked good enough, at least close enough that I may remember what I wrote at some point :P
Tonight is a different story though, I'm not too focused, and my worries are running amok.
I hope I can get this picture/short story prompt done, and then maybe my feelings of writerly glory will return. Here's hoping.
[Heavily edited excerpt from the weekend's "writing" is below]
My first 2 hours are probably 60% trashed, at least the few sentences I read through were...
But my last 2 hours looked good enough, at least close enough that I may remember what I wrote at some point :P
Tonight is a different story though, I'm not too focused, and my worries are running amok.
I hope I can get this picture/short story prompt done, and then maybe my feelings of writerly glory will return. Here's hoping.
[Heavily edited excerpt from the weekend's "writing" is below]
The bat creature was flitting back and forth in a haphazard zigzag motion, with no real control, as if it was caught in the wind. The translucent wings looked frail to her, but maybe that was the way the light caught the membrane. Lucy was so intrigued by the bat creature that she didn't realize Oliver coming up behind her, he put his arms around her shoulders and squeezed them real tight. This shook Lucy from her fascination of the bat creature, and warmed her heart.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Missed day
I definitely missed a day yesterday. Was out after work for far too long, haven't been sleeping enough, so I came home and crashed. Big bummer.
And now I'm gearing up to go 2 hours north by car (I'm driving) and I don't know if I can get a speech-to-text application working, but I'll be damned if I lose these 2 hours up and 2 hours back tomorrow to music and audio books. I need more words written!!
And now I'm gearing up to go 2 hours north by car (I'm driving) and I don't know if I can get a speech-to-text application working, but I'll be damned if I lose these 2 hours up and 2 hours back tomorrow to music and audio books. I need more words written!!
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Second night - 2464
I spent from 8 until now (minus 45 min out to grab a bite) just changing the whole direction of my story. I've plotted and connived, I've even done a bit of research!
--
Propagated outbreak
In a propagated outbreak, the disease spreads person-to-person. Affected individuals may become independent reservoirs leading to further exposures.
--
All-in-all, I'm much happier with the direction and have sooo many scenes to write up, I know it'll keep me busy for at least a week. Hopefully I'll get the juices really flowing and be closer to 10k by this weekend. Since my story is back and forth and definitely different now, I'll include a small excerpt of a description of events to happen.
--
Propagated outbreak
In a propagated outbreak, the disease spreads person-to-person. Affected individuals may become independent reservoirs leading to further exposures.
--
All-in-all, I'm much happier with the direction and have sooo many scenes to write up, I know it'll keep me busy for at least a week. Hopefully I'll get the juices really flowing and be closer to 10k by this weekend. Since my story is back and forth and definitely different now, I'll include a small excerpt of a description of events to happen.
More people are taken by the disease, half the world’s continents are now devoted to diseased people. The world is divided. Physical deformities develop in the diseased and religious cults form. Oliver becomes enraged and is unaware of his hostile tendencies, he is weak physically and seeks revenge. He tries to touch Lucy to act against her (a small gesture of desire) and misses. Lucy is outraged, stands up for herself, chastises the once infallible Oliver and turns her back on him.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
First night - 1168
I got started real late and was looking for a nice looking interface to write in, but after setting up this blog I realized that the blog view isn't the posting view and thus I've still just got a plain text box to enter plain black text on a plain white background. Yeesh. You'd think the environment would be the biggest change someone could and would want to make! whatever. I am still scatterbrained so the first post isn't anything special. Had some ideas 'after the fact' and placed some [add text here] markers to come back to later.
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