I am in love!
Nov. 11th, 2008 11:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lathrielWith writing! ;D
I hit 28k last night in my NaNo- that's pretty much double where I'm supposed to be. And how does she do it, you might ask? No, I do not have tons of time on my hands. No, I am no taking drugs. No, I am not refusing to delete anything. I am simply... in the groove. :D
I wrote over six thousand words AT the write-in last night! :O
And I'm PROUD of them!!? :O :O :O
Sure, it's rough draft quals, but it's a fantastic enough bunch of words (all 28,000 of them!) that I'm positive revisions will be fun and painless. I love my characters! I'm proud of the subtleties I've included! I feel innovative! I reinvented creatures of the night! GO ME!
XD
ok. Sample time!
“So do you live here or what?” I asked finally stepping up to the bars and peering through.
He stepped up beside me and grabbed the bars as if looking into a jail cell, but made no motion nor sound to answer my question.
“It looks like a nice neighborhood. Nice houses. Nice landscaping. So far they’re nice neighbors.” I smirked, turning my eyes to the boy. The houses were just shadows now against the bruised sky, still no lights in their windows. “Does anyone even really live here? I never see anyone but you and Johnny. No cars; no lights...”
The boy looked down at the ground, expression blank.
“If you don’t live here, where do you live? I bet your family is worried about you by now.” My own words made too much sense to me, and I really began to worry about my silent walking partner. “And if you do live here, how are you going to get back in?”
He looked up, gripping the bars tightly.
A mechanism connecting the two halves of the gate clicked, and they began to swing open.
“Well then. That answers that question. I’ll get you to talk soon enough though.” I turned to the boy with a smile, intending to say good night there. “You’ll get home safe, right?”
He looked up at me with those puppy-dog eyes and slipped his small hand into mine before he stepped onto the estate property.
“Am I allowed in here?” I asked, though the better part of me was excited to finally get a look behind the stone walls.
We moved quietly through the entrance, bare feet making no noise as we padded down the drive. The security building was still blocking my view of most of the development, but as we headed deeper into the estates I began to see the honey-colored flicker of firelight, washing up and down the the surface of a cobblestone road. One side of a tall, old-fashined streetlamp was lit up with gold, and what looked like a large dog was stalking slowly in front of it, silhouetted.
Its head turned towards us.
"Curious George" tugged on my wrist, pulling me forward.
The dog rushed in our direction, but disappeared among the shadows. In the darkness there, I heard a rough male voice growl: “Stop right there!”
My heart began to pound.
(Chapter 4)
The next thing I knew, the boy’s hand had slipped from mine, and a larger, more forceful grip was applied to my upper right arm as I was hauled towards the looming office, windows just as dark and empty as the rest of the development.
“Ouch!” I complained, stumbling after the man as he dragged me up stairs that I had not known existed. “You’re hurting me!”
“How did you get in here?” he growled, pushing me up against the wall indoors. His breath smelled of earth, a sweet, spicy smell that I knew well—and some how hadn’t known it. There was something heavy in the air between us—in our blood—much more than the adrenaline dumping into my veins. It was electric.
But I didn’t take kindly to being pushed (and pulled) around, and despite my fear I would not feign obeisance. “Let go!” I cried out, digging my fingernails into his wrist as hard as I could, to try and pry his hand off of my arm.
The sound he made next was so crude and gutteral that I could only describe it as a roar, though that couldn’t have been what I heard. He grabbed me with both hands on both arms and whipped me around, slamming me into the wall...
But he didn’t. He stopped, arms as tense and solid as tree branches, and even more unyielding. I still squirmed, and when my elbows bumped the wall, I realizes just how close he had come to hurting me.
“Let go of me!” I cried out, louder this time, mildly panicking. I wonder what happened to the silent little boy; just who this barbarian was; and on what authority he was being so uncivilized with me.
“Quiet!” he barked again. Then, more softly, but laced with venom: “I’ll release you when you’re quiet.”
I bit my tongue, battling the anger that wanted to hurl insults and curse words at this man, and battling the fear that wanted to beg for mercy. After a moment, in the darkness, I felr his hands peel away from my arms. He stepped backward, leaned against what I thought was a desk, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“How did you get in here?” He asked in a low voice, still angry.
“The gate was open,” I told him, crossing my own arms over my own chest. It was cold in that office. I didn’t like not being able to see the man’s face; I didn’t like knowing how strong he was, and how I had been unable to break free. It made me feel very vulnerable. I hugged myself tightly.
“Impossible. Someone let you in.” He sighed, turning to peer out the window.
I bolted for the door and reached it in two long strides, blindly grasping the handle. It was locked.
The man hadn’t even bothered to turn around and stop me. I heard him snickering under his breath when I fell back to the wall, breathing quickly.
“Let me out of here,” I demanded suddenly, straightening my spine and dropping my hands to my side.
“No.” He turned back to me, casual.
“You can’t hold me here. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“Trespassing is a crime I believe.”
“Are you a cop?”
He hesitated. “I’m a guard.”
“Not good enough. Let me go.”
He laughed again. “No.”
“Come on!” I whined. “I was walking a little boy home. How does that deserve this kind of treatment?”
“Hmm. That’s what I thought. Adam!” His last word was sharp enough that I could imagine the sound of it slicing through the walls of the security office. He followed it with a sigh. “There he goes.”
Through the window on the door I was just barely able to make out the dark form of a little boy as he darted across the drive and past the office.
“You should know, my brother is nothing but trouble.”
Brother? “He seemed very sweet to me.”
“Hah! It’s all a part of his plan.”
“Plan for what?”
He was silent for a moment. “How did you meet him, anyway?”
I crossed my arms again, not wanting to give too much information away, but... if I lived across the street from this man, he would find out eventually either way. “He was on the wall across the street from my property. I just moved into the farmhouse down the road.”
This seemed to give him a start. The man uncrossed his arms and looked down at a wrist watch he could not have possibly been able to read in the dark. His hands folded around the edge of the desk behind him, fingers tapping nervously beneath the lip.
“Oh. Do you like it here?” Suddenly friendly—jovial even.
“What?” I asked, not buying the false kindness.
“Do you like your new home?” It sounded so forced it was almost more insulting than his smugness.
It took me a few moments of incredulity before I was able to force my own false politeness. “I’m learning to.”
“That’s good. It’s good to be able to... bloom where we are planted.”
Hadn’t I read that on a bumpersticker somewhere? “Right.”
He drummed the desk with his fingers some more. “Is it just you at the house since your grandfather passed away?”
The question was too personal—it made my skin crawl. It would have been silly to ask how he’d known about my grandfather; of course the only neighbors for miles would have known—but it still felt weird just knowing so many people you’ve never met know about your family affairs.
“No. My mother is there. And our dog.” I sighed, exasperated. “Listen, are you hitting on me or writing me a ticket or calling the cops...? What’s going on here? Let me go already.”
He balked at me. “Are you barefoot?”
I scoffed. “Are you slow?”
The man stared at me, and I wished I could see his face and know if he was angry, upset, or what. All I could tell of his features was that he was tall, and lean, and it looked like he had a mop of wild dark hair. He was silent for a long while before he finally responded.
“I’m...”
I waited.
“Not...”
My brow creased.
“Sloooowww...”
“Ugh!” My hands flew up in frustration while he laughed, musically. “This is absurd! Unlock that door and let me go right now!”
“Or else?” he asked smugly.
There was something wrong about that question. “Wait—don’t you mean 'or else what?'”
“No. I mean: or else?”
“Are you hoping I’ll threaten you?”
“I am indeed.” A low rumble of laughter began to build in his throat.
“Oh. My. God.” I swallowed, and pressed back against the wall.
“What?” He straightened, looking around him, genuinely concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re totally insane.” I felt fear trickle into my veins again. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“What?” He burst out laughing. “Oh... come on. I take my job seriously, but not that seriously.”
The fear quickly transformed into anger and I snarled through gritted teeth: “Then why are you being so difficult? Why won’t you just do what you’ve got to do and let me go?”
“I’m doing it, Zelda. I will let you go when we are finished.”
It was my turn to pause. My reactions raged inside of me, conflicted and torn between anger and anxiety. “I never told you my name...”
Yes! I love them!
I hit 28k last night in my NaNo- that's pretty much double where I'm supposed to be. And how does she do it, you might ask? No, I do not have tons of time on my hands. No, I am no taking drugs. No, I am not refusing to delete anything. I am simply... in the groove. :D
I wrote over six thousand words AT the write-in last night! :O
And I'm PROUD of them!!? :O :O :O
Sure, it's rough draft quals, but it's a fantastic enough bunch of words (all 28,000 of them!) that I'm positive revisions will be fun and painless. I love my characters! I'm proud of the subtleties I've included! I feel innovative! I reinvented creatures of the night! GO ME!
XD
ok. Sample time!
“So do you live here or what?” I asked finally stepping up to the bars and peering through.
He stepped up beside me and grabbed the bars as if looking into a jail cell, but made no motion nor sound to answer my question.
“It looks like a nice neighborhood. Nice houses. Nice landscaping. So far they’re nice neighbors.” I smirked, turning my eyes to the boy. The houses were just shadows now against the bruised sky, still no lights in their windows. “Does anyone even really live here? I never see anyone but you and Johnny. No cars; no lights...”
The boy looked down at the ground, expression blank.
“If you don’t live here, where do you live? I bet your family is worried about you by now.” My own words made too much sense to me, and I really began to worry about my silent walking partner. “And if you do live here, how are you going to get back in?”
He looked up, gripping the bars tightly.
A mechanism connecting the two halves of the gate clicked, and they began to swing open.
“Well then. That answers that question. I’ll get you to talk soon enough though.” I turned to the boy with a smile, intending to say good night there. “You’ll get home safe, right?”
He looked up at me with those puppy-dog eyes and slipped his small hand into mine before he stepped onto the estate property.
“Am I allowed in here?” I asked, though the better part of me was excited to finally get a look behind the stone walls.
We moved quietly through the entrance, bare feet making no noise as we padded down the drive. The security building was still blocking my view of most of the development, but as we headed deeper into the estates I began to see the honey-colored flicker of firelight, washing up and down the the surface of a cobblestone road. One side of a tall, old-fashined streetlamp was lit up with gold, and what looked like a large dog was stalking slowly in front of it, silhouetted.
Its head turned towards us.
"Curious George" tugged on my wrist, pulling me forward.
The dog rushed in our direction, but disappeared among the shadows. In the darkness there, I heard a rough male voice growl: “Stop right there!”
My heart began to pound.
(Chapter 4)
The next thing I knew, the boy’s hand had slipped from mine, and a larger, more forceful grip was applied to my upper right arm as I was hauled towards the looming office, windows just as dark and empty as the rest of the development.
“Ouch!” I complained, stumbling after the man as he dragged me up stairs that I had not known existed. “You’re hurting me!”
“How did you get in here?” he growled, pushing me up against the wall indoors. His breath smelled of earth, a sweet, spicy smell that I knew well—and some how hadn’t known it. There was something heavy in the air between us—in our blood—much more than the adrenaline dumping into my veins. It was electric.
But I didn’t take kindly to being pushed (and pulled) around, and despite my fear I would not feign obeisance. “Let go!” I cried out, digging my fingernails into his wrist as hard as I could, to try and pry his hand off of my arm.
The sound he made next was so crude and gutteral that I could only describe it as a roar, though that couldn’t have been what I heard. He grabbed me with both hands on both arms and whipped me around, slamming me into the wall...
But he didn’t. He stopped, arms as tense and solid as tree branches, and even more unyielding. I still squirmed, and when my elbows bumped the wall, I realizes just how close he had come to hurting me.
“Let go of me!” I cried out, louder this time, mildly panicking. I wonder what happened to the silent little boy; just who this barbarian was; and on what authority he was being so uncivilized with me.
“Quiet!” he barked again. Then, more softly, but laced with venom: “I’ll release you when you’re quiet.”
I bit my tongue, battling the anger that wanted to hurl insults and curse words at this man, and battling the fear that wanted to beg for mercy. After a moment, in the darkness, I felr his hands peel away from my arms. He stepped backward, leaned against what I thought was a desk, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“How did you get in here?” He asked in a low voice, still angry.
“The gate was open,” I told him, crossing my own arms over my own chest. It was cold in that office. I didn’t like not being able to see the man’s face; I didn’t like knowing how strong he was, and how I had been unable to break free. It made me feel very vulnerable. I hugged myself tightly.
“Impossible. Someone let you in.” He sighed, turning to peer out the window.
I bolted for the door and reached it in two long strides, blindly grasping the handle. It was locked.
The man hadn’t even bothered to turn around and stop me. I heard him snickering under his breath when I fell back to the wall, breathing quickly.
“Let me out of here,” I demanded suddenly, straightening my spine and dropping my hands to my side.
“No.” He turned back to me, casual.
“You can’t hold me here. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“Trespassing is a crime I believe.”
“Are you a cop?”
He hesitated. “I’m a guard.”
“Not good enough. Let me go.”
He laughed again. “No.”
“Come on!” I whined. “I was walking a little boy home. How does that deserve this kind of treatment?”
“Hmm. That’s what I thought. Adam!” His last word was sharp enough that I could imagine the sound of it slicing through the walls of the security office. He followed it with a sigh. “There he goes.”
Through the window on the door I was just barely able to make out the dark form of a little boy as he darted across the drive and past the office.
“You should know, my brother is nothing but trouble.”
Brother? “He seemed very sweet to me.”
“Hah! It’s all a part of his plan.”
“Plan for what?”
He was silent for a moment. “How did you meet him, anyway?”
I crossed my arms again, not wanting to give too much information away, but... if I lived across the street from this man, he would find out eventually either way. “He was on the wall across the street from my property. I just moved into the farmhouse down the road.”
This seemed to give him a start. The man uncrossed his arms and looked down at a wrist watch he could not have possibly been able to read in the dark. His hands folded around the edge of the desk behind him, fingers tapping nervously beneath the lip.
“Oh. Do you like it here?” Suddenly friendly—jovial even.
“What?” I asked, not buying the false kindness.
“Do you like your new home?” It sounded so forced it was almost more insulting than his smugness.
It took me a few moments of incredulity before I was able to force my own false politeness. “I’m learning to.”
“That’s good. It’s good to be able to... bloom where we are planted.”
Hadn’t I read that on a bumpersticker somewhere? “Right.”
He drummed the desk with his fingers some more. “Is it just you at the house since your grandfather passed away?”
The question was too personal—it made my skin crawl. It would have been silly to ask how he’d known about my grandfather; of course the only neighbors for miles would have known—but it still felt weird just knowing so many people you’ve never met know about your family affairs.
“No. My mother is there. And our dog.” I sighed, exasperated. “Listen, are you hitting on me or writing me a ticket or calling the cops...? What’s going on here? Let me go already.”
He balked at me. “Are you barefoot?”
I scoffed. “Are you slow?”
The man stared at me, and I wished I could see his face and know if he was angry, upset, or what. All I could tell of his features was that he was tall, and lean, and it looked like he had a mop of wild dark hair. He was silent for a long while before he finally responded.
“I’m...”
I waited.
“Not...”
My brow creased.
“Sloooowww...”
“Ugh!” My hands flew up in frustration while he laughed, musically. “This is absurd! Unlock that door and let me go right now!”
“Or else?” he asked smugly.
There was something wrong about that question. “Wait—don’t you mean 'or else what?'”
“No. I mean: or else?”
“Are you hoping I’ll threaten you?”
“I am indeed.” A low rumble of laughter began to build in his throat.
“Oh. My. God.” I swallowed, and pressed back against the wall.
“What?” He straightened, looking around him, genuinely concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re totally insane.” I felt fear trickle into my veins again. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“What?” He burst out laughing. “Oh... come on. I take my job seriously, but not that seriously.”
The fear quickly transformed into anger and I snarled through gritted teeth: “Then why are you being so difficult? Why won’t you just do what you’ve got to do and let me go?”
“I’m doing it, Zelda. I will let you go when we are finished.”
It was my turn to pause. My reactions raged inside of me, conflicted and torn between anger and anxiety. “I never told you my name...”
Yes! I love them!
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Date: 2008-11-11 04:55 pm (UTC)