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quote 2015-11-08 08:21
Dead. He was dead.

I gasped, but Marta covered my mouth before I could scream. I recognized the dead man as one of the men who worked with my father in the forests.

But I was not prepared for the face of his attacker, as it settled outside the window it’d just thrown the body through.

I recognized the face of the creature. I knew it all too well, but it didn’t match the harsh look of the body of the thing the face belonged to. A winged creature, a hard shell of skin the color of a cloudy sky. Its eyes were completely dark so that no whites would show. Slim and sharp teeth protruded from its mouth, as it hissed and revealed a long tongue that just barely dipped past its jaw. Long talons on its hands and feet, hard palms set against what was otherwise sagging and wrinkled skin.

So how was it that I recognized this creature when I'd never set eyes on anything like it before?

Because it had the face of my mother.

I'm just a bit over 11,000 words on my NaNo project.


Yeah, this scene's setting up for some problematic things to occur, understatement. Not really a spoiler since it's the set up to where my protagonist will begin her journey.  I'm putting her through the emotional gauntlet in just the first chapter.  


But I'm on a writing roll. I'm actually backtracking a couple of chapters in to add details to the start of the story.


Getting out my pom-poms and cheering everyone else on their writing journeys for NaNo. See you guys in a little while.

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quote 2014-11-28 20:51
Nessie Jacob's Guide to Writing New Adult Tip #7: Bad boys sing and play guitars or drums. They don’t play harpiscords, lutes, tamborines or accordions.

Tip #10: No one goes to classes. And if they do, it's usually to meet the cute guy who works on a project with you or is staring at you with deer eyes from the back corner of the class. You might want to look back at him if the latter happens. Otherwise it would just be creepy to leave him doing that all by himself. People will wonder.

40,759 words on this project so far.  Whew.


And this is officially the weirdest story I've ever written, man.  Parody or not.  I think I've hit a lot of themes in New Adult in this book and done a fair share of parodying certain book series and characters (Jamie McGuire's probably going to wish bad karma on me, but I regret nothing.)


Probably a good sign from a writing desk if you're laughing while penning a narrative, but I think I'll want to go through this anyway a second time to make sure the humor works for what it's showing.  My MC, Nessie, has these bit anecdotes in certain places in the narrative and these just happened to jump out at me randomly.  Some of them I may use, others I may not.

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quote 2014-07-06 09:55
“I am trying,” she said, frowning. “And I don't like it. I don't like the drabby lockers. I don’t like the crowds. I don’t like the old looking classrooms and clunky, small, unadjustable desks. I don’t like the chalkboards because they're ugly and messy and nowhere near as cool as Entains. I don’t like that there aren’t any RegBots, and I thought they were the most annoying thing ever. Now I miss them because at least they were normal! And I don’t like...”

Jace cut Abby's statement short. “In other words, you don't like anything. More specifically from this century. I get it.”

A conversation between my protagonist and his younger sister as they adjust to making a significant time jump to the present day (21st century) and blending in as they attend school.  I'm having to establish mostly character relationships now before getting into the major conflict, but so far, so good.  I was able to salvage a few passages from my old draft so at least this part is painless.


I should be upping the first few four chapters of this story on Wattpad tomorrow.  I'm a little over 10K on the project now (which means I wrote a lot today, about to stop in a little bit.)

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quote 2014-04-12 02:05
The light buzzing over my head flickered so much, it made my eyes hurt. Somehow this didn't faze him, as he paced in and out of the shadows of the dark room. My eyes could barely follow him through the narrow gaps in the costume. I wondered how many times he'd made use of this place, wondered how many interrogations he'd had with other people. My wrists tugged hard at the rope that bound them, but no yield. Sweat streamed down my brow, stinging my eyes as I couldn't wipe any of it away.

Was he waiting until I passed out? Again?

"Where is she?" My voice came out raw and tired.

"Kevin, do you really think you're in a position to ask questions?" He casually sat in the chair facing me, pulled out a cigarette, and lit the edge of it with a match pulled from a set in his breast pocket. When he finished, he shook the flame from the match, flicked the remains where it hit the nose of my wombat costume. "In any case, that was my question for you."

I didn't say anything. So he hadn't found her; he knew that I used the question as a bluff.

He chuckled, as if he'd guessed my thoughts. "Figured this would be a good way of getting you to talk."

From my Camp NaNo WIP.  Still writing on this thing, though I'm writing snippets and still trying to link events together.  Figured I'd get all the stuff down that excited me and link them together as I went along.


Just a bit over 24K now.

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quote 2014-04-04 08:23
I've looked at this place as if it existed within a sphere of glass, contained from the rest of the world. This was not the abandoned amusement grounds I recognized from my childhood. Once left damned to the passage of time, it was as if a glass blower heated the sphere, shaped it into a work of art that took on another image from whatever footprint it had before. All of this renovation had taken place within the span of a week. I guessed Arthur, as strange of an employer as he was, delivered on his promise.

My lips parted slightly as I looked up at the newly-constructed booth and the motionless clown with the crimson face sitting behind the panes of glass. It looked like a real person sitting there, but I couldn't be sure. I tapped a few times against the glass with a finger. No response.

I twirled my token nervously between my fingers. The instructions on the booth were clear enough: "Price: 5 token points for your fortune read. Insert coin(s) here."

No sooner than I had placed the coin in its slot than its head lifted. Large, dark eyes stared back at me from behind the glass. Its lips curled overzealous, like a clown convinced something resembling happiness would arrive knocking at the door if it could fake the gesture well enough.

-from my Camp NaNo WiP.

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