You want to know how a minor secondary character gets picked to die? The son of a bitch with the longest name is the one that goes, dude. I had my choice of Hell-Devourer, Sword-of-Cowards, Blood-Spilled-for-Freedom, Mother-of-Terror, and My-Sword-Cleaves-Evil — and Blood-Spilled-for-Freedom won the toss, because I am NOT typing that name a million times in the next seven books. Don’t hold your breath for the rest of these bastards living forever, either.
On the other hand, guys named Sam and Fred are nearly bullet-proof.
… just makes your ass stick to the chair. In case you haven’t tried it, don’t.
Just thought I’d make that public service announcement — the words are moving along, but I’m taking a ‘thought-for-plot’ break before I move into scene two, and the Death of Someone I Haven’t Decided On Yet.
Everything else cleared out of the playlist, and the Canon looping endlessly. And now, at last, the words are flowing.
Thank God for Bach and Yo Yo Ma. Without both of them I’m not sure I’d ever get any writing done. The words are coming. Slowly. I fear this is going to be another of those ‘pulling teeth’ writing sessions. And no one is dead yet, damn them.
Oh, and lest I forget, BlogBuddy, the neat little “post straight from the desktop” add-in that lets me skip going to the Blogger homepage ever. Fast, convenient, and very easy to install.
It’s definitely time to kill somebody. Writing should be much more fun than HTML.
I’m supposed to be working on the book, mind you. But I discovered BlogBack while stuck, a neat little Blogger add-in code that lets visitors comment on the weblog, and had a happy half-hour dicking around with that. Writing is frequently much more fun that doing the website. It just doesn’t happen to be right now.
Getting started late today, but I’m hoping that improved focus and a growing determination that today somebody has to die will keep me rolling, and that this won’t be another 2,400-words-in-eight-hours ordeal.
I’ve also decided that this will be a lot more interesting to read if I include the story turning points and the surprises that I come up with while I’m working — though I’ll have to be careful to avoid including any spoilers for the book.
Hey, if nothing else, it’ll make an interesting doomed experiment.
I wish I could write in the morning. And I don’t mean that a “being able to find the words;” I’m always freshest and most full of ideas in the morning. But with a busy little kid, and homeschooling, and all the stuff that requires my attention, the only time I get the peace and quiet to write is in the evening.
Sustained focus matters. It’s hard to get a good book and tell someone “Don’t eat the damned carpet lint” at the same time.
Doing web work this morning, which is mostly brainless. Just transferring pages to the new templates right now. S’alright. I’m not sure what happens next in the story, anyway. I think the rron need to do something that will put their motives in doubt. And I really want to kill somebody — that’s up a couple of chapters, but I’m itching to do it right now.
So this evening may be murder and mayhem, which is a lot more fun that protocol and dress-up parties.
Got the damned words. 2403. Closer to Chaos is.
Total word count right now is 44,304. Hah!
Jesus. My main character is a widow with a three-year-old son who can walk through worlds, whose sister is a glorified zombie, whose dead husband is still literally haunting her, whose would-be lover is secretly a Special Agent in the FBI, and who is charged with saving the worldchain from collapse . . . and I can’t squeak an extra hundred words out of this goddamned book to make my nightly quota, and I have been writing since 1:30 pm.
There are days when it truly does seem that there must be saner ways to make a living. I need a smack upside the head from a focused muse.