anachred

I've reached the point of this book where I have room in my head for other stories to fit.
This is also the point where one is throwing cues around and hoping for an exit strategy... The significant lack of plot is going to be fixed soon, though. I just have to wait until the time zones align and then--WHAMMO.

Freedom's problems go nuclear mutant.

This is, in any case, the theory.


Today there is climbing of trees, and silver headbands. Also, reappearance of eyeliner angst.

Nano Count: 23802 (total MS count: 40387)


The greatest thing about this book is that it's full of girls--they talk all the time!
The worst thing about this book is that it's full of girls, and...

Right now, the Backlash Girls are discovering the delights of the Danger Wood training ground at their new school which include:
a fort, trip-wires, and menacing ponds.

I'm particularly proud of that trip-wire image--despite the fact that it was sheer luck I came across it. Man, I love autumn colors...


The Facts Are...
I have no neuroses to report today, nor any particular triumphs. I was up to almost
14,000 words
new since NaNo started, though. (As of yesterday.) That makes the novel a little over
30,000.
I think it's a little fat, but this is a voice-driven YA superhero story. Whatcha gonna do? She's just *talking*...


The Big Question:
To bring to writer's group or not to bring?

Okay, it's official.

Backlash Girls is the book I'm writing this month.


(Yes, this is a mini-collage for the book. Yes, Ouran's Kyoya is pertinent.)

State of the NaNo

For one thing, the other project I tried to start is just not mature yet.
(My judgment about this has been way off lately, so I'm trying to be more careful. The signs are, it still needs to wait a bit.)

And I was reading it aloud to my sister, and my brother Dan joined, both laughing enough they got hysterical, when *everything* was funny.
Which is the kind of fuel I need to keep going. I'm more of a performer than I think.


Also, my heroine and a few of the other characters have started taking on that extra dimension of life that's so important. (Sometimes you just need to keep plugging secondary characters in until you have Chemistry...) So, that's that.



Snippet:
in which superhero costuming is just concluding...

When we were done, I noticed a woman with steel curls close to her head and the expression of a vet watching us from the entry to the stairs.

“Hello Freedom,” she said. “What a perfect hero name. You're going to be sorry.”

“That I got turned into a Power? If that's a warning, you're late to the party.” I collapsed dramatically to the floor, and winced away from the construction-sign orange on my legs. “Orange. Curse you, Ena, I hate orange.”

This is Wolf...Wolf was not in my plans, but now the plans have been rewritten. (As if I wrote a plan...)

Intervention Program Status

Today I only thought about getting on the Internet 3 times instead of 15.
I did break down and use my own Internet on my own computer with my own bookmarks yesterday. I did not write a whole 2000 new words, either. But I figured it's all about moving in the right direction...


photo found searching for "november sky"

Book Report Card

I did not write on the same project today, but I decided to allow that.

Until a few years ago, my system of priorities in writing was fairly regular. I had one project that was the Main Project, and a few others waiting, including a Side Project. The Side Project  was picked up when I was stuck on the other. Occasionally, it took pre-eminence after kicking into gear and replaced the first Alpha Book as the Main Project.

I've had various theories running around each other in my head like competitive gerbils about why all my projects felt like Side Projects lately. My two courses of action have been:
- Purposefully delaying starting a book (something I've forgot to do in a while)
- Allowing myself to nominate a Beta Book


(also found under "november sky")

Stats
So, Backlash Girls is functioning as the Beta. Today I worked on that, and also wrote a 1500 word story that is probably Not A Story, but hey, tale as old as time as far as I'm concerned... (It's about the Song of Endings, in case this ever comes up.
And, hey! I wrote over 3000 words today, even if none of it counts toward a strict NaNo tally.

...It feels kind of odd to post without any eye-candy. I must be strong!

Okay. So I caved. At least there's no cartoon bishies...
What I am Writing--an occasional series

I'm waffling. No doubt about it. It's strange to not have a writing project eating my brain, because it was always *something*.
I don't know if I've broken myself somehow, or if it's the whacko schedule, but that has not been happening lately.

It's kind of scary.

But I did spurts on some short stories, and now am discovering energy to pick at some nigh-trunked manuscripts.


The Mortal Queen is my paranormal romance. I'm not longer sure what I did to it/myself/the space-time continuum, but I think I can work with it again.

When a good friend hits you up for a favor, you're going to hear them out, even if it sounds sketchy. And in this case, I owed her one: she'd bailed me out when my car gave up the ghost someplace near Bushy Head, outer Oklahoma wasteland, even though she had plans in town.

Walk Eager is my quintessential epic that-wants-to-be-unepic. I kept on tripping up on the fact that the humor was too low-level. I wanted voice. I didn't have it. I may have just found the jumper cables/defibrillator/lightning rod to give the hero his tongue-in-cheek lovableness. We'll see.

This is the story of Tohrya, of the far-coast Funayin—that is me.

 

I thought my story was simple enough, but this is now doubtful. Gossip has come round to me. Some of the tales are very interesting. They can keep on being interesting: I don't mind.

My own people, at least, should know the truth, though. So, I will start from the beginning. Don't groan at me, that's the only way I can tell a story.

Just in time to distract me from editing the Carnie sequels, I've found my way back into the maze that is:
Aolon (a.k.a. In Dire Need of A Title Project #1)

I'm pretty sure it has to start with Vol. 2, which is a short, sweet, and unobfusticated tale. In other words, I did away with the "epic" grammar (do you remember me saying something about sawing through oak with a butter knife? THAT is Vol. 1) to move up the period feel.

I don't think it will be right to do away with the first volume entirely (though it's a tempting thought) but I'm going to be patient about how to fit it back in. I think chopping it into itty-bitty pieces may be the only option...

A shadow blotted out the work under Farthaen hand. He didn't recognize the figure, but the platter in her hand was familiar. She had to be another one of Mother Shiael's strays, bringing him a meal. When she didn't move, continuing to block the afternoon light, he grew impatient and stood.

"Hiiiir," she said. It was a sort of hiss, as if confronting a devil itself.

~ Vol. 2

On Friday, Jesse realized that the band was dead to him.
On Saturday, they were in Texas again and he got on the stage with an electric smile.

What was sickening was that it felt just the same as the last two years up there: it had been dead and he hadn't even known.

I posted this once a while ago and had to dig it up from the backlog when I decided to write the story yesterday. (It's tweaked for grammatical excellence, now.)

I haven't been writing anything much, which feels odd. I need to kick this Internet and coffee dependency, because I think I'm killing myself off slowly with them, in terms of writing. This morning my computer wasn't online and I went almost crazy, even though I was already ricocheting between a book, a spinning project*, and writing the story.

I am so not to be left to my own devices.

But, I will being Going to Work, Monday, which is fascinating and strange. (Not that I have a job, I've been called in to Dan's. But it may lead to one?) Maybe that will help my resolution? My constitutional fortitude must eventually pitch in and actually do the thing, though.


I'm de-junking my mind right now, and I'm a little more aware of Teh Crazeee. Sorry about that...


*Oh, the spinning project is a tribute to the Raven King. It's gonna be amazing. I hope.

I am printing a new version of The Carnie's Conspiracy!

This has new material, which significantly changes the feel without being a reconstruction. I hope it will fly.

This story has been a comparative pleasure to work on.
It may just be that the other projects I've tried to revise have been Purgatory, but it's nice to actually be *capable* to edit what I need to, and think I've accomplished something. (Yes, World Dom. 101, I AM looking at you.)


And I've remembered an idea that would fit in the same vein of MG quasi-fantasy that I could begin, as a follow-up.

Gentlemen of Fortune?
It involves a boy expiating his pawn-shop-owning ancestors' sins by helping The Pirates atone for theirs.
Burying gold in wild locales was actually a rite to avert the wrath of their god, see.
But it was only temporary...

I need to dig out the journals again, to find where I had bits of world-building, etc. Because I had some, but that was probably years ago now...


(This is actually one of the fun parts, the flipping through my random journals...)

This is a little banner for my Etsy shop gossamersong, now boasting
7 items, from a "technicolor kittens" Umbridge skein to the Spirited
Away Haku yarn and my Very Pink tribute to the Nutcracker.

Yes, I am striving to make the shop a Guess-The-Fandom Extravanganza!
why do you ask?

(I am inordinately proud of how those three central photos go together.
I am less proud, but at least relieved to be actually working on this again.)



Speaking of work, I submitted 3 poems and a story (two for the first time)
to various places today.

I am less industriously writing a completely new scene for Carnie's Con,
in which Poisson has Molly burgle back a letter. Her only condition is to
not have to go in through a coal-hatch. (Do you know about coal hatches?)

Aaaah...

The scents of fresh air from the real world make me feel like I'm alive again. It's warm enough here we've had the windows open the last few days. I keep being hit by vivid memories invoked by the different qualities in what I'm breathing.

I'm at the most maddening point in the cycle of writing--I'm ramping up to a specific project, but I'm also freed up enough there are tantalizing words for other stories flying around.
From the most maddeningly alluring on down:



The Backlash Girls

We were the trio that sneered from the Geek Table. The Anti-Cool. We mocked whatever was too popular, loved what wasn't. If everyone was in love with William Mosley, we were so onto that poser. If big pants were in, we had lots of phrases to describe how ridiculous everyone looked.
No, we weren't that lovable. And we were okay with that. We have our own crowd and our own indie fashion sense, what more could we want?
Apparently, superpowers.
Obviously, being Anti-Cool, we didn't frequent malls or even the movies. me and Chelse like the arcade and dragged Ena with us. We all like cosplay. There's a pizza place that does a late-night Friday buffet, open to the LARP clubs. ...

When these girls get inflicted with superpowers, things start to get ugly... because they aren't going to be pop-stars, no matter how much super-branding they have to put up with.

Ah, the joy that is snobby geek adolescents...


Retiring is Suicide (working title I made up just now)

On Friday, Jesse realized that the band was dead to him.
On Saturday, they were in Texas again and he got on the stage with an electric smile. What was sickening was that it felt just the same as the last two years up there, it had been dead and he hadn't even known.

...he commenced to try and break up the band, only to find out it's a werewolf pack (or somesuch) and they're not going to let him go...


Death is not the Rock-Bottom (working title I made up for symmetry)

My cell phone is dying.
I mean, it's not enough that I'm in the puke-your-human-blood-out stage of undying--I have to lose my one gift ever from my dad?
Life makes no sense.


*shiny, shiny stories, how we loves you...until we have to write you.*

I'm working through the end of The Return of Mr. Birch.

This is the last volume of the Conspiracy of Cons...Mr. Poisson's story, but also Alan Birch and Molly Carnie's.

Hoo, boy. If any, this is the book that is going to need to be gutted and rethought and painfully reconstructed.
It's powder-room politics, and mental intrigue and nothing seems to happen but relationships.
And yet, today we are killing the Duke. In a very Birch-appropriate way, which is a relief...

Anyway. Can't be helped. Not until I've written and thought about it.

Tomorrow I think I'm going to review comics for you. Oh Joy!

Today I:
~ ordered about 15 books from the library on forests, castles, and libraries
~ went over listings of agents AGAIN but focusing on MG representing ones
~ typed in what I wrote yesterday as a start to Librarian Glamour

Which two are related to each other? Cyber-cookie if you guess!


What I have for an opening to Charming:

It was still summer, but Blynne and the other Archive girls were back at school. In the Senior House, the new class of seniors was settling in, jazzed about living together in a dorm rather than with host families. The house parents had been walking up and down the halls for hours, to keep them from getting too hysterical.

“So what did you get assigned this summer?” Sabronie asked her roommates.

Blynne looked at Diera, to deflect the question.

“Would you believe?” Diera said. “Nanny work. For the Crown Prince of Dalepri's girl, but still.”

 

( Missions Accomplished )

 

 

This is still pretty rough, and I know I don't quite have the tone for it yet, but I think it's going to be fun.

Totally Random Note before I get started: Having long hair again makes me so happy. 2009 may look really bad on paper, but at least I'm going into it beautiful! *heh...*

I'm the type who loves to brain-storm aloud--or whatever you'd call typing into a posting field for general consumption. This in view, my idea of a fun time if I have to think about what I'm going to write this year, is to do it by blogging it.
Some of these feel like they've been in my brain forever. This can't possibly be true. Whether they will really take shape this year is still more dubious.

Librarian Glamour: in which power over arcane knowledge is the perogative of finishing-school girls--who also happen to study cryptology, counter-surveillance, and psychological suggestion. I imagine it as a trilogy of chick-paranormals.

Walk Eager: a mere quest fantasy, but I have to write it because it brings a new angle on some of the tropes, and I can't help it
I need to start this again in the understanding that it won't be a huge epic. In subject-matter it will be epic, but it won't be long. lol, self, lol.

Verse the Walls: a Gothic romance in which a young PTSD afflicted man, who just happens to write prophetic poetry, is saved from himself and dark closets by a young woman who comes as an angel of mercy and temporary housekeeper. In effect, it will look nothing like Howl's Moving Castle, but that's not the only story it is borrowing heavily from in elements...

Sunschild: three people share the world's highest control of the elements: the SunLord, StoneLord, and RainLord. The SunLord is a tiny girl rescued from the manipulative StoneLord's family, not speaking any English, and upset about being displaced. The RainLord is a Zen young man trying to start a magic school who gets the spoiled child, who could bring Mt. St. Helens to fiery life at a moment's notice, dropped off at his door. Hello trouble.
(This one will probably also be on the short side for a novel.)

Renegade Experiment: Parahuman origins story, involving amnesiac teens trying to figure out who they were before they were superheroes and whether they want to belong to the people who are taking care of them. (I know. Unless I get a sub-plot this will also turn out a short story.)

Still writing The Return of Mr. Birch, though. I will be concentrating on getting at least The Carnie's Conspiracy ship-shape and out the door.

Honestly, I think Librarian Glamour is sounding the most promising right now...







Okay, and this was fun, and I'd like to see more peoples' results: (not because mine was so accurate: I chose the E rather than I option so that may have something to do with it.)

Your result for The Pop Culture Archetype Personality Test...

The Cleric

Ninja, Monkey, Zombie, Clown

      Well, I certainly didn't intend to spend New Year's Eve day in bed, napping, reading. and watching a lion's share of the BBC miniseries Pride and Prejudice. But I did. It would have been fun, too, if I hadn't felt like my throat was playing Judgment Day and not looking with grace on all my sins.
      (Apparently, my immune system DID notice all that sugar.)

New Year's Day I was generally done with living in my pajamas, and instead wrote 10 pages of The Return of Mr. Birch.
This may not seem monumental, but I'd been going about three sentences at a time before.

It also now sounds like I've been watching too many Austen dramatizations (this is true), but at least the plot's begun to move.

Win some, lose some.



Quick, what do Haku and my yarn have in common?
...too late. Beautiful colors, is what. I love interdisciplinary geekhood.







(Question to ponder: why we can't have a kissing scene
for *this* guy in Sense&Sensibility? Even as a deleted
scene?)
(This is a rhetorical question. The world is just cruel,
I know that.)

I love the changing of seasons. It seems a ripe good luck that about as soon as fall is over, we have food-rich holidays, and then another change! To a new year.

Last year, I posted a list of things accomplished. (They were very cute. I journal for my own amusement, you know, and I'm always amused. Success!)
I didn't seem to post a list of goals, though. Must have been in my paper journal.

This Year I Want to:

~ Submit a novel manuscript to an agent (this has been a perennial favorite for many years, and not yet accomplished)
~ Sell enough yarn to buy more fiber to spin!
~ Make a poem or story sale? Or at least create something good enough to create a sale...

stupid little things, which are way more fun:

~ Write a Steampunk Play
~ Tear a few more clothes to pieces, and make them interesting (one project a year isn't bad, it's just not amazing.)
~ Read more than one classic! (ah, the unattainable ideal...)

I actually am planning to spend tomorrow partly finishing The Tempest to meet even ONE this year. This sad testament brought to you by a girl Who Ignores Books She Owns.


As for the accomplishments...it's good to celebrate. It is also good to cut for poor afflicted Friends. So there you go.


( The Cut )
I'm sure there's more, but that's enough for starters.

Heigh-ho, to work I go tomorrow.
I'm whispering sweet nothings to myself about the temporariness, though.

This week turned out to be my rest from NaNo--immediately after I was too exciting to write something ELSE to not write. This week I've been scanning over The Carnie's Conspiracy (Poisson) again, and that's about it.

Oh, and reading Charles DeLint's "Dingo". It's the first YA of his I've read that really impressed me as being natural. Also? It was very good. Really nice cover too:



My Big Bad Book Awards Post is coming
eventually. It's half-written, too.

Brace yourselves.

Today was my first day to not be sore from dancing,

even though I did practice yesterday.
My face is showing the exercise already, a trait I certainly cherish.
Keep it at it! the mirror says.

I also have sold 2 skeins of handspun yarn in the last two days, my first ever.


(Actually *this* yarn, whereas the feet above...not so much.)

These things (with some other random stuff) seemed to be designed encouragement for me, because there is something else in my life right now that just...whoa. Not good.
A lot of little happy stuff outweighs one hard thing for me, though. I'm cruisin'.

I'm going through Poisson No. 1 in my first sweep. Beware, lures to Beta, soon!

I really need to have a different tag for Alan Birch. But I don't. Sorry,  Alan...   {fictional character, in case you wondered}


Good News of the Week:

I got my second rejection, for a different story, that encouraged me to keep submitting to the publication!
*squee! squee at 5-past-waking-up, people!*
I had a feeling my mail would have something good in it. Granted, I think that way more than it's true...

Peeve of the Day:       (okay, actually, this is something to diffuse the tension of all the peeves I shouldn't mention online)

I just realized I have the warm fuzzies for the word "pearl", of all things. ?0_0?
I have a long-term hatred of the word "caress", though.
Somehow this seems odd.

Progress of the Era:

I commenced The Return of Mr. Birch today. It is to be the last (as far as I can see) of The Conspiracy of Cons, a direct sequel to Charade*whathaveyou. I didn't think I'd want to go right into this next book, but I do.
So I am.
There's Mr. Birch in it.
Whom I have a crush on, I admit, though it's lame to crush on your own characters, but my crushes tend to not be highly rational things.
That's all.

Chyaaa!
The book is done!

And for an image that really expresses my feelings:



(This picture thing is in the tradition of my previous blog--
I'd forgotten about it, but now I'm reminded there is no escaping!)

Writing Quantifications for The Day--

Trace Elements on Manuscript: Breakfast Fusion Green & Black Tea Blend (with lemon & hunny) I know, right? Yum...
Though I put tooooo much honey in, it's like the spoon could hold up to jig in it, and it's more like a dessert than a drink.
( Etc with the pretty graphs... )</div></a>31032 / 50000 words. 62% done!

General Mood to the Effort: determined. To not sit in front of a notebook for 12 hours!

Current Outlook: Fair Sunshiny</div>

Media Influences: Anberlin*, Kung-Fu Panda"There is no secret ingredient!), Batman Beyond: The Last Resort (reform school story)

* Guess who found out their newest favorite band is considered em0? *sigh* There is not a well-mocked facet of modern culture I have not endorsed...
** !Hott Villain Alert! Though his voice is a disappointment--but we can't have little girls loving scary kung-fu murderers. They must have learned that lesson after Shere Khan. (Not that he did kung fu, in case you were confused.)

Writing Quantifications for Today--

Trace Elements on Manuscript: baby slime. Aww.
Hours spent Writing (w/ Procrastination): 12. At least.

Wordage accomplished:

 

28878 / 50000 words. 58% done!

That's 2446 today. Yes. A WHOLE day for that.
Hopeless.

General Mood to the Effort: like crying fake tears. (Which I cannot do even with much effort.)

Current Outlook: grim

Musical Influences: LotR soundtrack, Anuna *heart Gregorian chants*, Narnia, Within Temptation "Pale"

*cough, sputter, gag, DED.*