When I got out of the shower today, I didn't immediately put on my glasses. This proved to be a tactical error as I then wanged my foot into an inconvenient wooden box, thereby giving the second-smallest toe on my left foot a fairly substantial wallop. It hurts. It's turning all manner of interesting colors, and swelling up most interestingly. Every time I step on it, I wonder if it's broken, but then I decide that I'd know if it were. It's caused me to rethink a pivotal scene, however. I've got a character being far too stoic about a serious injury. I'm hissing and cursing over a jammed toe, so... So maybe I should be glad to be so klutzy.

The revision is coming along, if by coming along one means just started. I'm totally rewriting the first few chapters because the writing is crap, and I'm so glad. I just rewrote the first couple of scenes and they are so much better, there's no comparison.

Then I'll cruise along pruning and/or adding subplots and characters as needed for several chapters, and then the ending gets an even bigger rewrite because I figured out a much more satisfying way to end it. I am pleased with it in note form, although it might change on the page. This one particular character kept showing up everywhere except at the end, and this way he'll get in there and not be a loose-hanging thread.

But I'm stopping for tonight and taking a book to the couch, where I will think dire thoughts about the evil wooden box that mained my foot.

So I finished my first read through of my big honking manuscript.

( Pictorial evidence below the cut )

I am printing out my completed first draft right now.

I am very excited about seeing this big blob of brain spew as an actual physical object.


Neat.

(I'm also really excited about editing/rewriting. Now to see if I can Pull It All Together.)

I saw this cool toy on matociquala's journal, and I wasted kind of a lot of time playing with it. On account of because it's fun. Anyway, here's Brennig's story, may it one day have a title:




Wow, it's purty.

I think I know what the end is! I've been feeling a little lost, because what I inititally thought was the end of the book turned out to be the middle, and stuff kept happening, things needed to be resolved, etc. etc. Now, I think I know where this is going, in a vague sort of way, at least, and I'm sure I'll find out more stuff along the way, but: Yay! Ending! I've been struggling through the bracken, and I rounded a corner, and behold! Right down the hill* there's a nice bench, a good place to stop and rest.

And I'm glad I figured out the end, because I was starting to think those thoughts, the ones where you ask yourself where the hell you're going with this, and is it even any good. OF COURSE it's not good, it's the first draft. But hopefully, there among the dross will be a framework of a story, and maybe some decent prose. I think I'm getting better as I go. I hope I'm getting better as I go.

I honestly can't wait for the rewrite. 1.) Because it will mean I have completed a novel, and I will feel good about that, and 2.) because I really like this story and these people, and I want to make them the best story and people that I am capable of, and 3.) because I really can't wait for Ben to read it.


Also, no further sign of the uninvited mammal. *fingers crossed it left the same way it came in*





*Right down the hill is further away than it may appear from this vantage point, of course.

Trying on things for size:

“The-- the Queen,” the boy said, in a whisper so low no one with normal hearing could have heard it.

“The-- the Queen,” the boy said, in a whisper so low no one who had not been Bound could have heard it.

“The-- the Queen,” the boy said, in a whisper so low Brennig would not have been able to hear it had he not been Bound.

“The-- the Queen,” the boy said, in a whisper so low Brennig would not have heard it before he was Bound.


Right now I'm going with the last one, but this is still the first draft, so....

I had a few slow days on the novel, so I took a break to work on a short story I started some time back, which had been marinating, barely begun, for some time now. I worked on it for the last few days, and the first draft is 5,251 words, 2219 of which were written tonight. Now I need to let it sit for a few days and see if it makes sense or not. It just feels good to finish something, perhaps because I am in the Dreaded Middle of the book. It's also nice to know I can write something under 10,000 words, because I was starting to wonder.

While working on the short story, tentatively titled "Dead Letter Dave," I came to the conclusion that the reason I was getting sort of low word counts on the book was that I am now in Uncharted Territories. I had a (very) vague idea of where I wanted to go with this book, and I have reached what I thought would be the end, and it's not. More stuff needs to happen for there to be a satisfactory resolution. Some stuff I have an idea about, and some I really don't. This book just sort of happened because I wanted to find out what happened before the book I initially intended to write.* I only had a character or three, a need to know what made one of them the guy he is later on, and a vague starting point and a vague ending point. I thought I might write a little short story** to explain Brennig to myself a little better. Well, 50,000+ words in, I am definitely getting to know him a little better, and hopefully learning something about this whole writing thing. I can definitely see that I'll need to do some major revisions.*** But! Soldier onward, maintain the forward momentum, etc. etc.

But it's nice to take a short story break, too.



*I might just do an outline for that one.

**A hollow laughing.

***Is it odd to look forward to those?

I took a few days' break from writing, out of necessity; I went out of town for my cousin's engagement party, and maybe wrote 400 words while I was there. Writing was sacrificed to drinking and partying. And it was fun!

While I was out of town, my husband read The Grey Man, and made my day by telling me he only intended to start it, but ended up reading it in one fell swoop and being late for his next thing. Made. My. Day. (Maybe my week!) I will be interested to see how people react to it who haven't had me blabbing about my characters and world for a few months now.

Monday, I revised The Grey Man, now it's v1.1, Tuesday I wrote 558 words, and today I am over 1,000 and not done yet. So! Good stuff.

Fun typos today:

they exchanged a formal kill

and

moostones

A moostone ring would be awesome.

Wordcount for Wednesday: 1396 on Donagh's story

 Wordcount for Thursday: negligible.  I took a reading day.

Yesterday, on the other hand, I got 1109 on my ghost story, and 1190 on Brenin's story, which will soon pass the 30,000 point.  I am just now hitting a really exciting part, and wow, it is fun.  If the Small Human falls asleep in the next 15 minutes*, I may get quite a few more.  But from the sounds coming from his room (the door opening and shutting ((he can reach the doorknob from his crib)) and talking ((a de de de gh gh ba ba-- awesome))) I don't think that's going to happen. 



*I get most of my writing done during naptime.+


+LJ's spellcheck suggests that "naptime" could be replaced with napalm, Neptune, epitome, optima, nepotism, and septum, among other things.  Also, nap-time.

 Despite the tornado warning, we made it to the airport in plenty of time to get through security.  We had a great time at the wedding.  It was in this really neat old house with lots of beautiful rooms and many exciting nooks and crannies.  Really gorgeous if one likes that kind of thing, and I do.

Alas for my general level of grace, the dance floor was a beautiful green slick marble.  Dancing + wine + high heels + clumsy + marble floor = bad.  I slipped, caught myself with my right hand, stood up, de-shoed, and recommenced dancing.  By the time we got back to the hotel, my hand was painful and swollen, and it was far worse the next day.  

Sunday morning we had brunch with the relatives, (delightful! And there was coffee!  Thank god!) and then hopped back on a plane to come home.  I brought a notebook, but wasn't really able to hold a pen very well, so I settled back to enjoy the guy next to me reading the NYTimes without folding it in half and therefore very much in my personal space.  I think he was farsighted, because he held it at arms' length against the seats in front of both of us, thereby pushing his arm into mine.  Random stranger, please don't touch me.

Anyway.

I did get some writing done on the trip, probably around 1500 words.  I can focus much better when I don't have internet access, e.g. in the hotel room where they'll charge you for it.

Yesterday, I got 1231 words, and right now I have 1007 for the day, with a possibility of more later.  My thumb is only today de-swelling enough to bruise, but it doesn't bother me to type, for whatever reason.   I'm grateful.

Also, I'm now 26,000-ish words into Brenin's story and haven't quite figured out how I need to structure this bad boy.  I'm kinda planning on winging it and coming back later.  Is that bad?