one month of hell

Where am I now?

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 22:41:54 GMT

Keeping a regular journal just to show progress. Not that two days is regular--two days since last year is downright sporadic. We'll see.

Nearly through life in a Medieval City. I got a lot of great info regarding house structures, markets, careers, technologies, etc. And all of it is very heavily influenced by the church and involves ...

wow. I completely spaced this and went to bed.

and I really need to shut up about this, stop thinking about this, and get work done.

not an auspicious start.

dammit.

as mentioned elsewhere ... nano failure.

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 12:22:41 GMT

What we have here... is a failure to participate. I toyed with the idea, and convinced myself (deluded myself) that there was a slight sliver of possibility that I would take up pen, and write.

Such was not really the case. I have eight books bought (used) to help me better understand feudal england, where my novel is somewhat generically set. I have major changes in mind to the landscape, but I was lost in the woods--reading about how things were is giving me many ideas for what I can do.

* Life in Medieval Times [Paperback] by Rowling, Marjorie
* Cathedral, Forge and Waterwheel: Technology and Invention in the Middle Ages...
* Life in a Medieval Village
* Medieval Technology and Social Change [Paperback] by White, Lynn
* Life in a Medieval City [Paperback] by Joseph Gies; Frances Gies
* Life in a Medieval Castle [Paperback] by Gies, Joseph; Gies, Frances
* Castles: Their Construction and History (Dover Books on Architecture...
* Approaches to Planning: Introducing Current Planning Theories, Concepts and Issues

I appear to be missing that last one, still. Hopefully it shows soon because I just (accidentally? ish?) gave full marks on amazon to the seller and said it arrived. ;)

I've read "Life in a Medieval Castle" now, and have started on "Life in a Medieval City" (I started with Life in a Medieval Village, but it seems less what I was looking for for the main course).

Of course, how life turned out for Medieval England is not how life turned out in my world... what with the dragons and various (non-christian) church magics and whatnot. Different belief structures, different world structures, very, VERY different history.

But seeing how things formed, changed, etc, and the reasonings behind it all--is giving me wonderful insights and ideas.

I'm thinking overall my folks won't have had much cause to build castles and city walls and all that. There will be growing intra-human strife, betrayals, that sort of thing. There will be villages outside the main cities that are embracing the "old" ways, "old" magics.

It's getting to a point where I might be able to draw a few maps and stick with them, vague as they may be. Really need to figure out the whole "slavery" thing, still--LIAMC talked about what that meant, various levels of it, and such, but didn't get into how people _got_ that way. And while I read a few other things that gave some insight into it, I'm far from grokking.

Also still need to work on exactly how my england has been kept separate from the other lands ... or perhaps (and more likely) it hasn't ... but my england is the source of all mankind, so people may have ventured away, but there aren't hordes of others coming in to sack and pillage. Maybe occasionally. But not huge empires. Hell, the dragons may well have seen to that, pruning outliers... Though the dragons are on the decline.

And I've been reminded of "the little ice age" which could help all of this, putting things in crux/flux.

I'm thinking I may need to invent some other monsters, but it's possible the only difference there is real magic and dragons... and the monsters intrinsic to that magic (Muahahah?)

Hope there aren't any spoilers here. ;)

upped the stakes :)

Mon, 08 Oct 2007 08:47:24 GMT

Didn't get too much done this week (maybe an hour, maybe an hour and a half), but I eased into the beginning and cleaned up last week's thoughts. Upped the stakes and made things more conflict-driven (and made more things to conflict over), and hopefully made everything just a little ... darker. Now I'm sort of back to where I was originally stumped (Uh, okay, now have the king wander around until... something...), but I have enough background that I _must_ be able to come up with something.

hokay, I've got to do this weekly, at least.

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 04:43:12 GMT

Spent several hours today integrating old rambles/rants with the current storyline. I've got a bit more to do before the story "opens", but really ... really, I've got to do this more, and more often.

The writing/synopsizing towards the end of what I've got now is starting to get sloppier because of the integration, and because I'm not thinking too coherently/eloquently. I'm really hungry. Waiting for Amy to finish what she's doing so we can have dinner.

Still feeling good about the new direction the cosmology has taken, but noticed a few things that were no longer relevant, going through old notes, that I will miss. Maybe I can use them in something else. But... bah... there's plenty of ideas, and plenty of other novels started still waiting to be written.

I can do this, dammit!

progress? omfg. you thought this was dead.

Wed, 19 Sep 2007 04:58:47 GMT

Dead for nanowrimo, sure. But ... progress. I've gone back to the pre-history of my world, and have a timeline from then until "recent history" that I think gives me a much better context to wrap my plot in. The plot changes, but... I think the world is both more real and more plausible (once you start the basic genre suspension of disbelief). WHOO!

day 3

Thu, 10 Aug 2006 10:56:45 GMT

I picked a scene and ran with it. 57 words. I'm exhausted. No idea where the scene is really going, though I know where I intend it to. Going to make up a bunch of new characters. We'll see when I get there. I'm... eh. exhausted. Yeah. This was not a full hour spent. But I pulled teeth and made words.

I should focus more on description. Description doesn't have to move the plot forward. ;)

And dialogue does. Why?

my day 2, which was yesterday, really.

Wed, 09 Aug 2006 22:52:03 GMT

My laptop crashed, a while back, and it seems all my original files-in-progress went with it.

So I spent my hour last night hunting through things, and putting the story back together.

And thought about stuff a little more.

I think I'm not going to rewrite, not going to look at what I've got too much, and just jump ahead to a 'plausible' scene. Work from there, quit worrying about the stuff that gets me there. That way I can put off chopping what I've already written, which will be easier when I have more written. ;) Ah, the little lies we tell ourselves...

So it's starting again...

Mon, 07 Aug 2006 18:42:56 GMT

Or so I'd like to believe. A friend popped up out of the blue and challenged/offered a "you write, and I'll write, and we'll both get things done" sort of support system. So I've been making a more concerted effort to brainstorm this shizzle.

I've got a king that wakes up after being :gasp: what, poisoned? Left for dead and entombed for 8 years. His advisor, the sun witch, finally uncovered the fact that he was not dead, unwove the unknown spells that bound him. I think _this_ needs a lot more thought. How'd she pull it off? What research? Forbidden lore? A prophecy?

Old king's reintroduced to the family, left to acclimate to the "new world", a darker, faster place than he left it, with a new form of magic-for-the-people. ((and I remember thinking my accidental introduction of magic-for-the-people was a hokey thing))

With the old king left on the sidelines, with his advisor, what does he do to figure out this new world, figure out what sent him to the deathsleep?

There are people to be questioned! Though advisor has done much of this over time, surreptitiously, because she had the time, the worry, and nothing else to do. Seems like an infodump praying to happen.

Then, maybe, time just passes, and nothing happens.

The old king is sent somewhere as a functionary. Maybe there's a minor revolt. There's lots of those, really.

Hell, maybe he's captured. That makes life easier, doesn't it? That makes life so much easier!

Can I do it?

some interesting links, possibly relevant

Sun, 13 Nov 2005 01:53:24 GMT

the history of zero: http://www-groups.dcs.st-and.ac.uk/~history/HistTopics/Zero.html
the history of glass: http://www.glassblowing.com/hotglass/history.php
the history of rubber: http://lala.essortment.com/historyofrubbe_rcml.htm
on water wells: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_well

Chapter 3 continued, and possibly others

Fri, 11 Nov 2005 05:16:45 GMT

It was too much for him, though the mention of modern magic had stuck within his mind; magic was magic, what could be modernized about it?

"I'll be back tonight," he said. He resisted the urge to head out to the cliff face, to wander the tunnels and feel the mountain's life; instead, he turned from the rail and walked back from whence he'd come.

The garrison retreated back to their huts, and if they were discussing anything, he couldn't hear it over the unnatural roar of the cavern.

He twisted again through the tunnels with his escort close behind; he knew he walked faster than he'd entered, anger coursing through his veins. He didn't understand what was going on, certainly didn't like it. Such majestic creatures were not to be trifled with. Something was dangerously wrong, and he couldn't see how everyone else hadn't focused on it while he was gone.

Leaving past the well room, he turned his path outside; his heart and mind was thirsty for the Sun--even the anger was cold within him; the cold within seemed to nearly push through itself, making it a tainted warm confusion; where a swimmer would, when running out of air, confuse their up and down and swim to drown, he was fighting instinct to turn back in. No.

His lower mind was clouded and dark from fear and brooding, and he nearly mistrusted the Sun--his first instinct upon reaching the out of doors was to recoil, to shade his eyes and shut them, both. But his higher mind held firm and assured him all would be well.

Slowly the shape of the castle drifted from the glare--its ramparts bright, its soldiers standing to as much attention as could be expected for a kingdom that never warred. He expected there were dice games going on, and baudy jokes, and more--hopefully more harmless activities than the other sorts of recreation that soldiers were wont to follow. He wondered how much that had changed with all the rest.

He pictured, under darkness, sulfuric stench, and brimstone hail, what it must have been for the dragon rampage. How would the guards have responded to the attack coming from within? Would the dragons, rampaging, have bothered with the towers so far below, looking more like rock and earth than something worth attacking. Or had they sent a few bursts down but for the most part streamed on straight unto the town? Questions to save for later, if he could hold them in his mind. It was funny how wandering about with so little aim could add so quickly to his conundrums.

He walked about the battlements, waving, or nodding, when one or the other seemed to be required; letting the sun work its way into his bones, with his entourage occasionally explaining his presence but mostly just towing along. Nothing seemed to stir his mind for what had befallen him.

Finally, his spirits still muddy but as charged as it seemed that they would muster from his off-kilter connection with the Sun, he reined in his course and traveled back to the Dragon room. There he left Gorgarte and Bregge outside the door, and sat down at the writing desk.

There was no one to write to, and he was tired from his walk; time had passed, but not enough, and he was overly strained to attempt another outing, to the town or such. He lay back against the chair, looked out the window, and lost himself in thought.

#

"--Kshee", announced Gorgarte.

He who was no longer Kzo shook his head and tried to find his place and time. The woman walking through the door was nothing like his wife; her dark, narrow face set her from another continent, of boyhood dreams, of beasts and men that knew no more than beasts. Which, he knew, had grown advanced civilizations, still. No, she was not his own queen all; his own queen had been from a land colder than his own, though many cursed his own land as frozen. She had been pale, so pale her hair seemed translucent against her face, her skin a drapery over her muscle and blood. So pale, and so much blood when her son's birth had taken her away.

No, the woman who walked in, with so much color, she was not his delicate beauty. This was his son's wife. Kshee.

As his thoughts came to him, he stood, and nodded respect before her. "Kshee."

It was doubly odd, that name for so long gone, for it to find its way upon his lips; and for someone not his soulmate, not his bond.

"My Father."

"It is good of you to find me."

"If news had come after me in town, I would have come the sooner. This should be time for rejoicing, for thanksgiving to the Sun."

"Again, I'm honored. Circumstances seem to drive more complication than one would hope."

"That there only ever be one Kzo?"

"That and what would have had me gone. And what has happened with the Dragons. And--well, that's enough for now. Much is different from when I left, and there is much to become accustomed to, much to learn."

"I am sure Kzo will do his best to make you welcome, and purposeful. And surely with the fact of your return, old assumptions will have to be reviewd."

"One hopes. I am sure he will do what is best for the kingdom, even if that is not what's best for one old man. What can you tell me of the land? What are its concerns, its joys, its sorrows?"

"There I'd be, I think, remiss to speak before Kzo. Perhaps that would be suitable supper conversation? I presume you will be joining us to sup?"

"Indeed, I shall. Is it still when the sixth bell begins to ring?"

"It is. You'll need no help attending?"

"None, no, I thank you. My faculties seem full, despite my death so near."

"Then if there's anything that you need, don't hesitate to call."

"I give you thanks, my lady."

"I am glad you're here. It is sad to be without family." With that, she strode outside, and he had to wonder what land she came that a man coming back from the dead would be met with such aplomb and, of all things, hope.

#

The great hall was boisterous as he walked past it, Gorgarte and Bregge in tow. Kzo had separated himself from the night's supper, so they were all meeting in his chambers--Genvieve, if she'd returned, and Kshee, and Nemesne.

Family business, plots and secrets--were better to discuss in private than before a populace it would only fuel. When he who once was Kzo ascended the stairs to the royal floor, he froze. The room that had not changed in centuries had been stripped. Small, blue orbs glowed and flickered with the same energy that had transformed the net deep below them. Metal rods streamed out of the cold stone room, blocking further what ought to have been natural light streaming in. The great cathedral skylight had been covered with a poorly tightened tapestry, though he couldn't tell yet what was depicted. To cover up the skylight, though!

And the ancestral tapestries had been removed from walls, the regal furniture replaced--or reupholstered.

The room was cold, but suckling pig wafted to his nose and immediately set his mouth watering. His first meal as a man, instead of Kzo.

A long table was set out in the center of the room, and it, at least, was set more with more traditional accoutrements: candlesticks, with candles, and honest flames; simple plates, aged from use; goblets for wine; and, indeed, five suckling pigs laid out on platters.

A conversation was politely finished or put on hold as he approached.

Kzo sat at the head, with Kshee opposite. Nemesne was on the far side of the table, and there were three empty settings. He who was no longer Kzo took the seat closest to his son, on the near side of the table. Under the skylight, there was the faintest hint of some acidic smell, something that made him think of Hell. He shrugged it off to the eerie lighting, the blue tinge warring with the healthy yellow, which made each of his companions seem as if dead. Perhaps this was why they took his reawakening so calmly--they were used to seeing the dead each night. He shivered under his clothes as he seated himself.

Nemesne stood to pour him wine, which he accepted gladly. All faces turned towards him, and all seemed delighted to see him.

"Where is Genvieve?" asked Kshee.

"I was hoping that she would be here, but she had some errands to run as well. For the church, I believe." he replied.

"A shame," said Kzo.

"Indeed," said Nesmesne. "Her input on events will be missed."

"But tell us of your recovery," said Kzo. "Tell us how these eight years have passed for you. Were you in the afterlife?"

"It was but a bad dream, with nightmares I'd rather not hash over. The waking was as simple, from my perspective, of a moth's approach of a flame. Natural, and necessary. I don't believe my soul ever approached the afterlife."

"I'm a bit worried that Genvieve violated--and this is no offense to you, my Father, and I am ever so glad that you're alive--that Genvieve violated the crypt without consulting with any of us. Do you think she mistrusts us?"

"I couldn't speak for her, of course; but one thought is perhaps she didn't trust herself to be correct. How foolish would she have looked, how married to the past, to go on ranting how Kzo--er, that is, how I must not be dead."

"I'm sure we would have been supportive if she had presented to us her evidence."

Nemesne watched the volley with interest, but Kshee was just picking at the pile of meat upon her plate.

"A vague suspicion, a gut impression, is scanty evidence to go on."

"Indeed, it is scanty evidence--but with this she desecrated, or potentially desecrated, your tomb."

"And if she had, she is a disciple of the church. She would not have disturbed my soul, nor stirred the body's flesh to the point of danger. She knows the rites, she knows the rules."

Kshee spoke up, at this. "Please, can we discuss something more pleasant? Genvieve brought back your Father, Kzo; this should be a meal of celebration, not the attacking of an honored witch."

Kzo smiled apologetically. "Of course. What should we discuss, my Father?"

"Any number of things, but I hope not to step on toes. I'm ever so curious about this thing I've heard referred to as the modern magic--the dragon net, the orbs glowing on your walls. And the dragons themselves, I'm desperate for a full accounting of their actions. On a more personal note, I can't seem to remember my actions prior to--being dead. If there's anything you could remind me of--I hadn't thought to ask Genvieve last night, we talked of simpler things--well, there's the foolish thoughts of an old man, perhaps."

Nemesne re-entered the conversation. "Do tell us your foolish thoughts. Perhaps we've not had enough of those, in our drive for progress."

"That's another thing I'd like to understand, to be honest. This place seems changed indeed, the details so much it's hard to get a fuller picture. But to answer your question--I can't help but think perhaps the dragons and the line of Kzo have become so woven that whatever fell upon me affected the dragons as well. Perhaps I stumbled upon some curse laid out in times forgotten."

Kzo spoke. "That does seem a bit far-fetched, but so is the walking dead--"

Kshee interjected, "Your Father is not a revenant, and you should not get used to saying that he is."

"Two items that would be good to decide upon at this meal, my love does bring back to light. Regardless of the veracity of a curse, perhaps that would be the best approach in explaining to the populace your returning. And then, a name. We're thinking there should be invented a new name for your position."

Nemesne added, "There is precedent, you know."

He who once was Kzo sat and wondered. So there was. "Ksheehm."

"Precisely. The first queen died before such a title could be considered, but several generations later, Kzo preceded his love. Then it was determined that she who was no longer Kshee needed a name for her position. We would like to invest you thereby as Kzohm."

"Kzohm."

"What do you think?"

"It seems good, and proper. Still, I'd like to pass the thought by my adviser."

Nemesne stepped in. "The land can only live with one adviser; Kzo's adviser. While I'm sure Genvieve's advice is appreciated by all, she is a former adviser, honored as that and no more than that."

"I understand. Nothing more needs to be said regarding the importance of a name."

Kshee spoke up. "You've not yet taken supper--please, before any further discussion of matters serious, you should take some flesh to warm your own, and to sop up the wine that you've not yet tasted."

"Then we pass on Genvieve's arrival?"

"Surely she can fend for herself if it comes to that."

"Then we pass." A small worry burned at his breast that something foul may have befallen her. Everything all topsy-turvy left him believing anything at all was possible, things as likely as they were unpleasant. He took his knife and carved off several pieces of the closest suckling pig; its skin was tough, seared, and when he broke through it, juice ran down his fingers. The juice was warm and its aroma rich. His fears and darkness pushed back down in him and his thoughts opened to the meal before him. He placed the meat he'd cut on his plate, and licked his fingers undecourously. "My compliments to the cookstaff. Of course it's my first meal in eight years, but this seems done to much greater perfection than my memory is serving."

Kzo responded, "Indeed, we've woven modern magic into many things; the ovens are just one of them. Where it makes sense, of course, because there's only so much power to go around with this sort of control. There, we've bound the energy such as to make a perfect flame--the marvel is that one without a strong talent for magic, such as our master chef, can use the thing. We've got one oven dedicated to rotisserie."

He who once was Kzo savored the warm flavor of the pig's flesh, wiped his hands on the tablecloth, and reached for his goblet; the aroma from the wine washed over him, and he shook the goblet gently to wake up the spirits within. "Where is this from?"

"A vineyard in the lowlands, a new one. They've been growing for about four years, and they're starting to get the hang of the land."

He placed the liquid on his tongue, and savored the acrid bite. It was good to taste, but not on par with the rest of the meal. "A bit sour for such wondrous pig, I think."

"As I said, they're still just getting the hang of the land."

"What of the Isane estates, or Sharoon?"

"They have not fared so well as this, of late. Some of the same principles are involved in other ventures, looking for new land."

"What of their old?"

"They blame the factories; they say the stench of them is getting in the land. The old Isane passed on a few years ago, and I think the new one just doesn't have the flair. Perhaps there was a little bit of magic going on--the new Isane seems particularly inept in that regard. And Sharoon's output has always been a bit eclectic. Perhaps he's just hit a bad stretch of luck."

"Wine is a very delicate matter, Kzo."

"Don't seek to lecture me, my Father. I am well versed in the technicalities of the situation, and have been managing just fine these last eight years."

"Were you two always at each other's throats," Kshee asked.

"It is just the tenseness of the situation. I have enough complaints during the day, I'd rather not have more contention when I sup," said Kzo. "I apologize for my tone."

"And I do not seek to lecture; I should be more careful with my speech, as Kzo is lord here. It is just awkward to wake from dream and find such time has passed, such changes done."

"Indeed, it must be," responded Kzo.

"Tell me of the dragon rampage."

"The dragon rampage--let me see. It was not long after your--departure. A few weeks, or months, perhaps. Time was a swift beast while the land repaired itself and mustered courage to carry on. Perhaps you had indeed triggered some curse, or perhaps your early passing caused such distress among the people that that somehow poisoned the slumbering of the dragons. They had always been temperamental--don't say they weren't. We as kings would bow and scrape, and even then they would offer us no small challenge. We aren't such as would know the workings of a dragon's mind."

"It may not have been all as bad as that, but you have to admit you went to some extremes for dragons that no other guests would merit," Kshee added.

He who once was Kzo reserved his judgment, struggling to see the source of this odd spin. Nemesne was simply smiling, following the conversation; with that smile, was it him? Or was he thinking something else entirely? It was rude to assume that an adviser's mind was only on the present.

Kzo continued, "In any case, well before their proper waking, a flight of them launched from the volcano's mouth--or perhaps that's not the place to start." His eyes began to twitch and focused elsewhere. "The sky had gone dark, which was right and proper according to the cycles. It was fourth phase, so the Sun was far up in the heavens, but the moon was crossing between it and us. A time of dark portents, of course. Anhton was in the square holding mass, leading the people through the darkness. Such was the scene in our dozen cities. I was in the church's tower, kneeling beneath the prism, praying. A dragon's cry, tortured in some way, broke the stellar stillness. Soon it was joined by more, a horde--perhaps a dozen. Their cries were fierce, the sound alone driving men to their knees; I prayed harder and was granted vision, just a sliver as that's all of the Sun's rays were left to break around the moon. Our guards had braced themselves with weapons, stood behind their shields and battlements--and one or two dragons swooped below to give them terror; there was fire, fire deep and black, near-sulfurous, boasting itself from their maws. Men died from that, and were crippled. A tower was dispatched in its entirety when one dragon chose to rake it with its legs. But the dragons headed for the town, first; and there they laid such waste--buildings burned, Anhton and a number of his congregation were killed outright. But then as suddenly as they'd came, they turned. They flew upwards into the day's deep night, and I could see nothing of it. When the Sun's rays were returned to us, the dragons were no more. No hide, no scaly tail, as if illusion--only the damage they had wrought remained. We sent down patrols to find the dragons left, but all we found were eggs, some broken. And some remains, like a great battle had been fought between them. Ever since that day, at night--nightmares would travel up from the pit to terrorize the keep. We built our net then, which I've heard you've seen, and moved a garrison below. The dragon shadows cry and scream, but with much less force. And people can sleep, at least. That is all."

"Have troops been sent down there since then?"

"Into the caves? Just during the day, and nothing has been found. We'd face a mutiny if we ordered someone down at night. Everyone at the castle knows someone who died, or someone once removed, in that attack. A number of our guards changed profession, then and there, deciding some family trade was not beneath them, that they did not need the security of our keep when it was threatened by such random acts--acts that they could not defend against."

"And beyond the net, the nightmares, the dragons have been silent?"

"Beyond the raging of the night, we've had no trouble."

"Not even of the dragons that attacked, then flew away?"

"They could not be found, but perhaps they flew back deep within the mountain. I tell you, insanity reigned that day."

At that, all four were silent; the conversation continued only in the sounds of knives on meat and bone, the sounds of goblets returning to the table after sounds of swallowing, sounds of chewing.

Finally, he who once was Kzo excused himself from the table; he could not get the image of the dragons raging from his head. He wiped again his fingers on the tablecloth, and stood. Fond wishes of good dreams were given to him, but his heart was cold, and his body very tired. Kzo offered to have Nemesne fetch him some guards for safer travel through the castle, but he promised he'd head straight to his room.

As his feet returned him there, he remembered to wonder after Genvieve. Where had she been? He hoped that she was safe and whole.

Had she been hunting dragons in the caverns to fend off his own insistence? Or did she have an agenda all her own?

Two guards, unfamiliar to him, stood at his room. The nodded to let him pass, and the taller one spoke--"Genvieve seeks audience within."

A flood of relief, then concern, and finally annoyance rose within him. He nodded to them and walked inside.

Genvieve was standing with her back to him, staring out through the window at the waters below, or the darkened clouds washed with night--or perhaps staring at nothing at all but that what was in her mind.

"Genvieve."

"My liege."

"Your presence was missed at supper."

"My obligations took longer than I expected."

"Have you eaten?"

"I am full; thank you, my liege."

"Were these personal obligations?"

"Of a sort." She gestured loosely at the guards outside, and he understood. Conspiracies in his--no, it wasn't his. This was not his castle. He would have to learn.

"Kzo recommends I'm named Kzohm."

"And are you?"

"I told him I had to speak with my adviser."

"How did that go?"

"Oh, well enough, Genvieve. Please, have a seat." He pulled the chair out from his desk and sat himself. Now Genvieve, seated, had her back to the window, but could see the guards--and he himself trusted that, his own back to the door.

It's a long one. We made finished the tour, and made it to dinner. The dragon rampage is accounted (briefly, but a bit more at least is told). Nearly 4000 words in the above cut--I broke 10,000 total!

And made a nifty graph I need to figure out the best way to export, with OpenOffice. If you made a chart in excel, how would you export it to an image?

recording chat transcripts, posting them to wiki

Wed, 26 Oct 2005 01:27:24 GMT

Oct 19, 2005 -- the hook
Oct 20, 2005 -- initial exploration
Oct 20, 2005 -- secondary exploration
Oct 22, 2005 -- the plot thickens
Oct 24, 2005 -- on dragons and castles
Oct 24, 2005 -- dover castle, demons, POVs, and writing
Oct 25, 2005 -- the plot details, goals and motivations

We're really making progress.

a glimmer of hope?

Thu, 28 Oct 2004 08:36:00 GMT

I had an idea to do a pseudo-mockumentary of george bush's reign of terror, but I really wouldn't be able to do it justice.

But inspiration struck in the form of a game I want to develop.

I'm going to write a novel set in that game.

And then I'm going to write the game.

The game's actually going to be rather involved, so it's probably four or seven down the line, maybe even last of 10 currently planned, ish.

But the novel should be fun. I have a universe, a character, a manner of thinking and moving, activities, oddnesses, and an arching development of character which will substitute for a plot.

Then I just get to be silly for 50k+ words and do my damnedest to still bring out some serious commentary between the lines.

Plus I was recently given hope for the novel I wrote last year. Something I could _add_ to it to bring out the main character and inject the originally intended gimmick plot.

2004. Everyone's talking about it.

Sat, 09 Oct 2004 04:42:17 GMT

And so it begins. The talking. Right. I said that. No writing yet, and that's a damned good thing considering. What this is sounding like. Right? :)

I don't know if I have it in me this year, but I remembered my password on nanowrimo and I remembered my nanowrimo journal name and password here, which is a step. Looks like you're automatically set up to participate after participating once.

I should post something in my main journal linking folks doing nanowrimo here to friends me.

done. done done done.

Sun, 30 Nov 2003 23:41:33 GMT

2003-11-30

9:37 am - LAST DAY, 7000 words to go. No clue how to get from here to there, but to do it, and do it I will, somehow, even if it doesn't follow. :/

9:57 am - argh. I'm stuck in a character I feel like I"ve already exhausted, even though that's absurd. But I don't have anything I want to do with her. She needs to give up on her search and start gathering people back together. Or something like that. Oy oy oy. 345 words. Teeth pull this is this is this is. Oy oy oy.

10:11 am - you can feel the teeth being pulled, no? one word at a time, the excruciating agony? 594 words.

10:21 am - 958 words. so close to 1000. so far from 7000. Building up to something nonsensical, I think. I'm wishing I hadn't given my character a familiar. She's not using it, it's not using her, it's all just... GRR!!!

10:46 am -- 1450 words. jumped into another character. building up to my gimmick. please work, please work. It's just go get the words out. NOthing more. Nothing less. No story here, just to get the words out...

10:58 am -- 1850 words. this is bad. this is so bad. make it stop! make it stop!!!

11:10 am -- 2239 words. Just for my own reference, sort of... who do I need to go back through? I "peaked" with Charles, currently back in Fey... before Fey it was... Girl, then Barbie? Then Nietzsche, then Mother Nature/Jenn, then Ogre, then Spot, then George. I just realized I left out Dee. Dammit. Sorry, Dee.

11:20 am -- 2318 words. oy oy oy. back to pulling teeth. I need more conversation. Conversation means lots of words. Well? On with it, then.

11:29 am -- 2640 words. an awkward conversation where neither character wants to say too much to the other, and both just want to be left alone. sorta. 4400 words to go. :/ I've been working on this for two hours. Probably four more to go. I'm needing 1000 words per character to really finish off the novel, and I'm not getting that. PLUS, well, Barbie needs to conveniently wander in, or Girl needs to wander about, or something. Something. :/

11:39 am -- 2930 words. I don't know how I'm going to keep going. Thinking of taking a break. I have to be at work in many hours, late tonight, to do scary stuff. WAHHH. Laptop has one hour battery life left. I'm feeling all kinda of wonky. 600 words to halfway through the day. I think I'm going to do more than 50k, all told, but I don't know how much more. I'm sure some major impetus will be gone once I've crossed the barrier, even with more needed to close things off. Or osmething. somteisoifjslfjslfjsdf.

11:52 am -- 3317 words. The conversation's _really_ wound down, now. What do I do, just _jump_ to Barbie? Sure, what the hell. What the hell. Or. No, I drag them. I drag everyone along. Muahahahah. Muahahaha?

11:57 am -- Holy shit! I was just scrolling back to see what I'd had girl wearing, and found out I completely missed another character, never to be mentioned! SPOON! Hmm. Well. Then. At least Dee's not alone in being skipped over. I guess spoon was just utterly beyond uninteresting. Or something.

12:05 pm -- 3602 words. Half way. Half way. :/ Two and a half hours. Meaning I may just be done by 3pm at this rate. Hard to believe. Unlikely? Who knows. And now I'm apparently going to take a break.

1:20 pm -- 3602 words. OKay, I ate, I read a bit, I'm ready. Ready? Ready or not, here I... erm... write... (please!? where the hell was I?) Oh. Shit. Right. Nowhere.

1:40 pm -- 4354 words. 2650 to go? 2650 to go. So unreal. I have more characters to hop. Hoppety hoppety hop. I'm actually still in Girl, but we're coming up towards Barbie. I don't know how I'm going to get through all of them, though. This is going to be awkward. Awkward awkward awkward.

1:54 pm -- 4604 words. 2400 to go. Still unreal. Not feeling it. Must plod through. Jumped to Barbie, introduced Nietzsche. Nietzsche, Jenn, Ogre, Spot, George. Do I skip Jenn, since she has no place here? Or what? Eep!

2:01 pm -- 4780 words. The pain, the pain! I've jumped to Nietzsche already.

2:09 pm -- 5194 words. This is just odd. Weird. Pathetic. A horribly pathetic wrap-up, though I managed to get Jenn in unbeknownst to everyone else. I'm just about to jump to her. Then Ogre, then Spot, then George. Okay, just stared at the wall for two minutes. Come on, Kaolin, you can do this. You can do this. Soooo close..... 1800 words to go. fading, fdaing, fading...

2:25 pm -- 5700 words. trailing things to an end, still hoping the last few lines will somehow explain everything and give the piece a plot. But now I'm actually worrying that I'm not going to get 1300 words out of the last bit of Jenn, out of Ogre, Spot, and George. No, 1300 words. I can do that. Really. I got 500 from Jenn, right? And climbing, because she still has to run to catch up to Nietzsche, and interact with them. Yeah, fine, I can do this. I can do this.

2:35 pm -- 6021 words. I've jumped to Ogre. Now he's off to find Spot. Then George. 1000 words seems I'll be cutting it close. But... not so bad. It's all going to come together. Really it is. Really. No, really. Please?

2:44 pm -- 6299 words. I should be jumping to Spot any moment now. I've grabbed him into the scene. He's ready and waiting. But Ogre is about to say something that's supposed to wrap up the whole day, or a huge chunk of it, and while it doesn't have to be the end all be all, it has to be better than "because". Please???

2:53 pm -- 6651 words. Oh, man, I'm wrapping it up right here, right here, But I think... I think I need more than 349 words. I think I need closer to 500 words, still. 500 words and I'm already wrapping it up. I've jumped into Spot, and all that's left is George, but what is Spot going to do, and where is George going to come from, if ... if anything??? YEARGH!?!?!?!?

3:00 pm -- 6954 words. Just went and counted. 132 words to go, according to one word count. I don't know where the 'official' thing is going to put me. nervous about that, some. how many tries will it take? ???

3:14 pm -- 7367 words. Certainly over 50k. Time to post. I had to jump to George with an epilogue sort of thing. Worst epilogue ever, except perhaps something making fun of itself, which... this wasn't doing. :/ Done doesn't feel real. Must post, must post.

3:39 pm -- printed out winner's certificate, saved the winner's html notification, saved the winner jpg and made it my new main one on this journal, umm umm umm. I can't believe it's over. Over. Donated some random $17 to the cause. Printing out the twenty pages I wrote today. I can't believe it's over.

I can't believe it's over.

SEVEN THOUSAND WORDS TO GO!!!

Sun, 30 Nov 2003 17:17:49 GMT

I did that yesterday in seven hours. It's humanly possibly. I can do it again. I've got one last gimmick up my sleeve, waiting to see if I use it. I don't want to. But. God bless the things that be my poor word count tally technique. Or something like that. 7000 feels so much easier than 9000!

And here I'm feeling a little less sick, as well. Whoohoo!

one day to go when I end these notes...

Sun, 30 Nov 2003 17:15:21 GMT

2003-11-29

4:40 pm - Fuck me, I'm in a foul mood. 14,000 words to go. Still not a clue what to do. Fucking fuck. And that's not even the heart of the foul mood. :/ Though the fact that I meant to start working on this a good ten hours ago is certainly part of it. =(

5:10 pm - 1000 words. Hitting the unrequited love, for Amy. Not sure where it was going, hadn't really expected it, and I'm probably breaking characterizations everywhere. But... fuck. Gotta keep writing. :/ Just another 7 hours at this rate. Not not NOT going to happen. But there's still tomorrow, right? Fuckshitdamn.

5:34 pm - 1737 words. La la la. Wah wah wah. Writing really obnoxious stuff, but I've manage to avoid the worst of hackery, I think. Nobody's woken up from a dream within a dream, aliens haven't landed, ... but the temptation is so sorely there... As well as the temptation to go straight back to bed and pretend nothing exists. NOTHING IS REAL! STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER!

5:47 pm - 2053 words. What if I get 8000 today, then 8000 tomorrow? That's pushing things close. But what if I can't even get 8000 today? What is this hell? Can I really hope to get 16,000 TODAY!? I want. I want I want I want. I want to be done. :/ This has me around.. 38,164 words. Word and "wc" seem to disagree. Within 100 words, though, so not huge. Still not writing. Just had my current main character decide to carve a stick, so he's looking for a stick. How pathetic is this? THIS THIS THIS THIS IS.

5:58 pm - 2378 words. I'm cold and my nose is burning and running. This sucks. And I have to do more contract work. Taking a "break". :/

6:36 pm - break over. dressed more warmly. reheated the coffee I started three hours ago. third reheat. :/ I've not had five sips yet. And I'm sure it's not helping my drizzling nose, or my headache. Maybe I should whap one of my characters with a cold, just to get the description out. :/

6:56 pm - 2722 words. so, 20 minutes, 400 words. That's _really_ bad. Also, one hour, 400 words. That's exceptionally bad. I'm more bundled, and I've got a character in make-believe land. Amy just came in trying to make me more comfortable. Talked a little about what I was listening to. Now she's in here with me to listen to what I'm listening to. She's avoiding working on her thesis, the defense of which is ... Dec. 3rd. Four days from now.

7:11 pm - 3200 words. Having troubles in this dream. Why? I'm usually really good with dreams. They're random. Except this one isn't random. Probably why it's having troubles. It's overly moralistic, and... yeah. I have an idea how to pull him out of it, but I don't know what I actually want him to get out of the dream before he's pulled out. I didn't know when I got into it. Maybe I shouldn't have even had it. But. It did get me 500+ words. I need more. More more more. :( Why oh why couldn't I have been more hardcore about this before the last week???

7:21 pm - 3485 words. Where the hell is this going? I keep making staggering steps forward, though not toward any given place, just on, and on, stumbling and struggling... Of course, none of this was going anywhere, ever, but... oy oy oy oy oy!

7:32 pm - 3856 words. Just dropped him out of the dream. Not sure how I'm going to do this conversation/confrontation.

7:50 pm - 4050 words. break. another break. and another break. :/

9:55 pm - 4050 words. can you believe it? fucking hell. Tried to help Amy with something on her computer for about an hour, ate and read beyond that. I was next to no help at all (apparently without my trying, she would have gone on to other things, instead of figuring out how to do what she wanted right after I finally gave up...). Now I've got to write. Fucking hell. Still coughing and sneezing and dripping like hell. But feeling a little better other than that. No, I don't know what I mean.

10:12 pm - 4535 words. getting dizzy. nose is starting to burn from wiping it. writing is getting worser and worser and worser. the editor in me is coming out, demanding some sort of resolution somewhere, somehow. I'm going to try switching rooms and see if that does anything. One downside is I moved away from the music, and I think it was actually helping. But if latent allergies were kicking up over in the other room, maybe now they'll calm some. Or something. Plus I should be able to stay warmer here. Up core temperature good. up up up. what the hell to write!?

10:22 pm -- 4670 words. still dizzy. actually feeling worse, with the heat. it's sort of a good worse, making me want to close my eyes. I'm going to. close my eyes. I've got 10,000 words to go, now. and less than 24 hours. That's 500 words per hour. And really, a lot more than that, because I have to go in to work late-ish tomorrow and do lame ass shit stuff fuck shit damn fuck damn shit. :/ And more still because I'm going to close my eyes for a few moments now, and I'm sure it's going to be more than a few moments. And then Amy's going to want to go to bed and I'll have to move out of this room, or actually go to sleep for real. shit shit shit shit shit. I don't want to lose!

10:42 pm -- 4670 words. Sinuses are ... maybe drying up, clogging up, something. eyes no longer want to be shut so much. Hard to believe I've been going since 4:40. Six hours, not even 5000 words. Fucking fucking fucking fuck. Thought up maybe what to do for the next bit, and maybe something for a closing. Not great stuff, but it's something, right/ Now to try and write. try try try. Really a shame I can't work all these logs (can't or won't?) into the story.

10:52 pm -- 4933 words. Head. Hurt. Sinuses... on the verge. Oy oy oy. Teeth are feeling ucky; should brush them. eyes are watery and puffy. oy oy oy. oy oy oy. ears are starting to hurt.

11:00 pm -- 4933 words. Brushed teeth. They feel a little better; ache a little less. Bed got colder while I was gone, and Amy announced that she was going to start getting ready for bed.

11:17 pm -- 5447 words. Dizzy . Writing badder and badder and oy badder. Oy. Erased a couple bits. Not sure what I'm doing. Need to think of something. Shit shit shit? 10k words to go, still. Amy's almost done with all of her night rituals. Do I sleep or keep going? It's the same, either way, right? Delicate... so delicate...

11:26 pm -- 5447 words. gotta love those double word counts, eh? situated myself in the _other_ other room, Amy's off to bed. She'll let me know if my music is too loud. :/ It's soft fucking music.

11:39 pm -- 5845 words. waking up. nose is POURING. I think I'm writing. Made it to what I'd been sorta shooting for; just gained a character a familiar, or at least I'm in the process of it, it's actively happening. Not sure what happens next. Never am, it appears. Never am.

11:52 pm -- 6251 words. going to toast a bagel and drink some more OJ. Or maybe just get more OJ. Need liquid.

12:02 am -- 6500 words. going through the OJ like no tomorrow. nasty ass OJ but I have to presume it's good for me. Really dragging this scene out. No clue where to go with it. No clue no clue no clue.

12:08 am -- 6774 words. going to bed. this is just... not. happening. I've got... 9300 words to go tomorrow???

The end of day 28 (36,148 words)

Sat, 29 Nov 2003 08:03:59 GMT

2003-11-27

11:04 am - Happy birthday to Kaolin. On the road up to see my folks. Amy's driving, I'm tippety tappety typing. Wish me luck? She's about to get on the phone with her mom. I'm hoping that won't distract. I told her it wouldn't. Here goes nothing... ((Lots of nothing as I keep typing this and not my story. Kinda interesting to watch the road instead of what I'm typing. Not making too many mistakes that way, really. Weird. Weird visual effect. Sort of. Visual/somatic. Thing. Okay... when last we left our characters, Nietzsche (could I have picked a harder name to spell? Not like I get bonus points for long words or odd words or anything like that, just 50,000 plain janes would do. okay. right. on on on on.) was getting blind drunk.

11:10 am - looking over what I wrote last, trying to get a sense for what I was doing. I wonder how much harder or easier this would be with an outline, really. :/

11:24 am - maybe 100 words written. I'm not doing so well. I think I"m brainstorming, but... not sure, really. Traffic is a lot better than it was two years ago. But it's still unpleasant, and we already nearly hit someone (and the person behind us had to actually slam on their brakes). And now we had another instance, no brake slamming but my stomach's a good car-length or two in front of us, now, and appropriately squeamish. I think I'm going to just try to brainstorm the next scene a little and maybe pick this back up when traffic seems cleaner. Or something.

2003-11-28

6:20 pm - Just getting started. I need 20,000 words in a day and a half. I can do it, but it's going to hurt like hell. That's all I'll say. For now. I may change my mind on either or both accounts. Thanksgiving/birthday was good. Very nice. Today sucked ass and has been an emotional drain and other unpleasant things.

6:47 pm - Managed to switch characters. I think this one is going to be my most difficult yet, but I've figured a template to mark her off of, at least. And if I over-the-top her, that's okay. Like, totally. And stuff. Or some junk. 673 words in 27 minutes. That's supposed to be impressive. I wanted more. And I need a break already. But I think just a short one. I hope.

7:33 pm - Well, wasn't that great? Still depressed and dealing with headache (no, not dealing with it, simply suffering it and causing it to be worse with caffeine instead of water). But I now have a peppermint mocha. And feel shitty for supporting starbucks with my money, but it's what I wanted (the peppermint mocha, not the supporting; la la la?). La. Fucking la. Must. Write--

8:04 pm - Amy came in for some kisses, so I gave in and did a word count. I was hoping (kinda) to just push through, no pauses, so I'd have the feeling of a greater accomplishment all together. I'm at 1685 more words, so that's... 1000 in 31 minutes. It's a nice pace. I'm... I broke down, a bit, and am explaining/exploring stuff that I wanted to actually have as plotstuff in the story. And maybe it can be somewhere. But for now. It's just being rhetorically discussed. Or something like that.

8:28 pm - Several breaks. And I don't think I'm representing these two characters well. I'm trying to do a difficult conversation between two not-so-very-intelligent people. An example of my problems: what do I use instead of the word 'plausible', for someone who is likely to _know_ the word, but unlikely to actually _use_ it in conversation? Possible? A possibility? Not 'likely'. So? So I go with plausible, and don't really represent the character well. I think. Maybe a thesaurus would help--funny, to dumb down a word instead of to smarten it up. 2040 words. that's just 400 in the 24 minutes. That's horrible (for what I'm writing). But now I have music going, some rhythmic jazz, so that should ... well, that helps something at least. It's certainly making _this entry_ longer. Which is silly. Back to writing? Looong dialogue between two characters where _I'm_ having trouble keeping them separate. Going back adding "saids" here and there.

8:44 pm - Painfully little progress; more breaks. Amy's doing laundry and working on her thesis, or rather she's doing laundry, I think, to distract herself from her thesis, which she says is at the pulling-teeth stage. Which I understand completely, so I attempted to task-master her through putting some pliers around one of the teeth. Which is frustrating, and then I feel bad for it being frustrating, because that paper is orders of magnitude more important than this crappy ass novel. But... Wah. Just not a happy Kaolin today. Not happy. Grr. 2161 words. 17,000 to go. Sounds doable, really. Oddly so. 24 hours should have me there, at least. THen, done with this. Done at least for another 11 months. I want to do it again next year. I want to do it either more for real, or more experimentally next year. BUt I'm using, sadly enough, these characters to think through things that I've been trying to think through as an author. Hell of an exercise, no?

9:15 pm - 2747 words. Still lots of breaks here and there. 16k left to go, give or take.

9:31 pm - It's hard not to check my words habitually. 3261. I'm not going to count for a bit, though. I can do it, I can do it, I can do it. Please? Let's see if I can get another 3000 before I count again. ;)

9:38 pm - Not going to check, not going to check, not going to check. ... Ah, fuck it. 3484. 180 in 7 minutes. 20 a minute, one every three seconds. Not counting, of course, all the words I'm writing in here. Which (I had to do it) came to 721. :heh:

9:49 pm - 3914 words. What is it about deciding I'm not going to count, and saying so, that makes it even harder not to??? Or am I just floundering that badly? [[I am floundering pretty badly]] 15k left to go. I'd originally decided to do 5k today and 15k tomorrow. But that 15k sounds pretty scary, and I slept a fair amount today, so I'm going to keep running. But first, to help some more with the laundry some, because I love my Amy, and she loves me. Some. ;)

10:20 pm - another long break. 31,735 + 100 (exactly!?) + 3,914 == 35,749 words. Okay, if I make it to 40k today I will be happy. Right? Please? Back to writing. 4 hours, almost 4000 words. Not the best pace. But not bad for how much I'm doing other nothings. But not great for how bad I'm writing. But... RIght, the last break started with me reheating my coffee. I bet I have to do that again. And then I went and helped with laundry again. Right. This is up to 908 words (or 918 counting these).

10:37 pm - 4245 words, making 36,080 total. I just hit another roadblock. Nietzsche came back into the conversation because Girl and Barbie hit a lull. But he had nothing to add, and now they're just staring at each other silently. Contemplating having news come back that Jenn has collapsed and is being rushed to a hospital, something like that, but I don't know. That, or Charles comes over, or... where did Ogre go? How did I lose Ogre?? Oh, shit. Ogre and Nietzsche were standing together. And then I forgot Ogre was there. Must go do some fix somewhere. Shit shit shit. Plus Fey and Dee are still off in the wild blue yonder, and I haven't 'ridden' with either of them. And I haven't ridden with Girl, though I meant to be setting him up. I don't want to jump out of Barbie until I've done her a bit more properly, though. Argh. Okay, back up to putting Ogre into the scene, or rather, jumping back to where he was _in_ the scene, and removing him more visibly, so I don't have to rework the last four thousand words. :/

10:45 pm - 4278 words. 36,111 words. tired being. I think coffee won't help much. Still haven't gotten up to get it. Should re-reheat it. And look for some food or something; need to get some ideas for where to go next. Not doing so well. Not doing so well at all. =( But I made Ogre wander away with Nietzsche, which ties pieces together better, at least. At least.

11:22 pm - Another break. Cold and tired. Still at 4278 words. So. [[and no ideas as to what to do next; but maybe the break will have helped in ways not immediately obvious. maybe. I can hope. :/]]

11:58 pm - All the laundry is done, things are packed up. Time for bed, nearabouts. 14,000 to do tomorrow. :/

from 26,584 to 31,735

Wed, 26 Nov 2003 06:43:42 GMT

7:05 pm

I have et and drunk and am sitting in the livingroom with Amy's laptop, and the cats. :plunging in with nothing to say:

7:37 pm

That's what I'm talking about. 909 words. Let's keep that going, shall we? I think I need another gimmick. I'm just tossing in random drug experiences everywhere because they make for interesting mental fodder. It's "doing something' when you're not doing anything. Or something. Okay, now, I had another gimick in mind. THey play a game. A drinking game? Something. I was thinking another game, but I've got a cat in my lap. Making things difficult. Diffidiffidifficult. She's actually sitting ON my right arm, or over it, which means I can't move my right hand too much. But she's keeping me warm, at least.

8:02 pm

But such is the manner of things--I sneezed, cat left, I heated up my drink, grabbed a blanket, checked mail, ... 1037 words. Damn, though, if I'd been writing like this every day. Seriously. So many days with not a single word written. That's NOT the way to do this. I know that, you know that, so what am I saying? I think I'm saying I'm not writing. Back to writing. I think my gimmick sucks and is too cheap of a cop-out, so I'll do more expensive cop-outs. ;)

8:29 pm

1828 words. My point of view character has just drunk himself into incoherency. What can I do from here? OOOH. Maybe. Maybe I can bring back father time, now. Come on baby, let's babble us into some thoughts on time. Or something. Fucking incoherency's got to be good for something, right? RIGHT?

8:43 pm

Holy fuck yeah. I think I found a cheat I'm *proud* of. My incoherently drunk character is trying to make up poetry. He keeps repeating lines, trying to rhyme things, stumbling every which way. It's so bad! SO BAD! So bad. :) 2344 words. That's 500 in 14 minutes. Back to, back to! ((2000 in an hour if I keep it up. DUDE!?))

9:00 pm

3022 words. 700 in 17 minutes. The poetry finished up. He gave up on it until he could find something to write with. Maybe he should go acquire something to write with (and on) and such. That could be good. Feel like I might be winding down, which would kinda suck. I'm doing so much better than I expected, though of course not as well as I'd hoped. How sad is that? Back to writing!

9:17 pm

3532. Amy came in and we talked and not-talked for a bit. She's lonely. And sick. And I'm being a horrible boyfriend, writing writing writing. Writing writing writing. But the words... the horrible, wrong, despicable words... they're... they are... they are.

9:39 pm

3900. AND tuck-tucked the Amy, looked over a worksheet she wrote for any obvious mistakes... took a spider outside and threw it over the railing, got a powercord for the laptop. La. La la la? La. If I reach 30k tonight, that is good. That's what I'd hoped for. Umm. What more? More than that would be even better. 35k would be wondrous. 40k would be beyond belief. I could possibly finish at that rate. Possibilities. All this from nearly 4k words from roughly 2.5 hours. Almost 2k an hour. Unbelievable. And "not good enough" still. MORE MORE MORE! Holy fuck I can't believe I'm writing like this (the speed, the crap, the crap, the speed...)

9:53 pm

4255. Slowed down. I think I might be doing another character change again. I've been with Nietzsche for a while. Gotta love how I'm leaving everything and everyone dangling, no? No?? Oh well. That brings me to 26,584 + 4,255 == 30,839. Not bad. MORE MORE MORE!

10:16 pm

4937. 680 words in 23 minutes. That's slow, too. Slow? Dude. Okay, fly on, fly on. Fly on. I'm just getting back into writing poetry. ;) Still with Nietzsche, now with Ogre sitting by and adding snarks. Need to grab Girl back to switch viewpoint, because I don't want to go back to Ogre just yet. Or maybe I can go with some other character that happens by. That could be good. Not sure not sure not sure. ARGH! STOP THINKING! :)

10:25 pm

5211. 4416 was 31k, so if I really am shooting for 35k (getting tired, work is going to HURT), I need 8416, which is another... 3205. I can't imagine that happening right now. Do I go to sleep now, or later? Later? Now? Tiiiiiiiiiiired. I will write more later. I will sleep now. That's okay, right? Sure. Please.

the days tick by, so quick, so quick

Tue, 25 Nov 2003 03:56:13 GMT

7:54 pm

I've attended to all distractions. Worked some on the website, got my 'new' email down to zero (still some 1200 messages I intend to attend to). Some mood music on the headphones, story in front of me: I WRITE. ((god damn, I hope so))

7:59 pm

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! who what where? I need something. I need something badly. SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK ARGH! :/

8:16 pm

I found some other distractions. DAMMIT. posted a new excerpt, changed my lj website to my nanowrimo profile. fucking. ARGH. And of course, updating this. I'm unpleasantly hot, but kinda need that. Thirsty. Not hungry. I should be going to sleep "soon", which is bad. I was hoping to hit a roll and maybe wind up staying up a few hours I shouldn't to pound out five or six thousand words. How did I get a full thousand in thirty minutes??????????? Why can't I do that again? I will do that again! Somehow! I need more ideas, more destinations. I need to figure out what I'm doing, or run with the no clue. So hard to run with no clue. Like running ON scissors.

8:48 pm
I think I was on a minor roll, but. Got a little sidetracked looking into kite aerial photography. Enough that I have to justify it by writing it into the story a little. Or something. Damn. I just don't know. Now... thinking about wrapping it up and sleeping. Amy just got woken up by the phone. She's rather sick. Rather really really lots double plus sick. :( 25,844 words. A small, small roll. If I can get 30k tonight... I'll have one hell of a headache. One hell. Of a lot. Of hell. I think, by normal measuring, I'm... at the end of 24 days (today's the 24th), I should be at 40k even. Then I'd only be 10k behind. Normal is to have 10k left to write at this juncture. That helps. That helps? I want that to help.

9:13 pm
26,296 words. fumbling. 450 words, 25 minutes. Not a bad rate, really, but if that's where I peak I'm not doing myself any good staying up. Am I? YEARGHHHHHHHHHHH.

10:00 pm
I have to give up for tonight. This sucks. 26,531 words. That's 2 hours, 1,463 words. Talked with a friend a bit. And helped another friend with his c++ homework. He's having trouble with the concept of "functions". (#*$&(#*&(#*. and pointers, it appears. this should be a good assignment for him if he makes it through. but. I must sleep because this sucks. :/

from 13,455 to 25,068 in 21 hours!!!

Mon, 24 Nov 2003 01:29:57 GMT

3:35 pm
another cafe, another day, kinda. Lunch is done, had a nasty (kinda) mix-it-up caffeine drink, did one and a half loads of laundry, now at a cafe with Amy, this time one close by that I'd been meaning to get to "since forever". L'Amyx. You'd think that would be enough to sell amy on it, but it's a tea shop, and she's not a tea person. Anyway. Anyway. Anyway. I'm having a 'golden thai' bubble tea. Like a thai iced tea, only hot, and with pearl tapioca. Pretty friggin cool. And they have three different types of chai here--Masala Indian Chai, Unwind Me Chai, and Yerba Mate Chai (that sounds scary; I'm not a fan of Yerba Mate, to say the least, but I'm compelled to at some point try it). So. TO THE STORY. Here I begin (now it's 3:38pm. hah.)

3:54 pm
halfway or perhaps a bit more through my tea. I'm not really _feeling_ it, but it certainly tastes good. I think I've saturated my caffeine receptors, or used up all the requisite neurotransmitters. Bye bye high. Anyway just wrote my first "sex" scene in the piece, and it was... difficult. I think I made it reasonably tasteful, and it's probably some of my best writing, especially considering it was a solo scene. But it only got me all of 300 words. Twenty minutes. Hmm. Okay, that's not too bad. It feels like a lot, lot longer. Lot longer. Lot.

4:03 pm
amy distracted for ten minutes because she can't concentrate :P

4:10 pm
amy can't concentrate. leaving at 400 words. back home, jiggety jig.

5:26 pm
got home, did another load and a half (finished the half) of laundry, started having to deal with a paying gig that I'm developing and then supporting for two months. Need to write. So so SO leaning towards taking tomorrow off sick. I'm tired enough. And I need the extra five thousand words I could get in the day. I'm almost to 10,000 today. (since 11:45pm last night, say). 22,175 words. I started the day at... why can't I keep any of this straight??? 13,455. 1,280 shy of 10k for the day. Which is also for the weekend, or for the last week and abit. But impressive for one day, right? WRITE WRITE WRITE!

6:00 pm
Still nothing new. More work on http://www.balletfolkloricodemexico.com (go to /index.php if you want to see the fun stuff). Plus lots of fun stuff that I'm just flat out putting off for a few days. But... writing? Must writing. Come on, 1300 words for a 10k day. I wanted so much more. but 10k is a start. a lot. one hell of a lot. What would be really excellent is if I could *double* my wordcount. That would mean I'd need 26,910 total, or 4800 more. Yeah, that's friggin unlikely. :/ Another good goal would just be 25k total. That's 2900 more. That seems doable, right? RIGHT?

6:41 pm
starting again. I've taken amy's laptop into the bedroom to be warm and away from distractions. Here it begins.

7:07 pm
go figure; distractions cuddled up next to me in bed. silly distractions; silly, loving distractions. 640 words in 26 minutes. good, I guess, but with the current goal of 2800... guh.

7:12 pm
distraction gone. back to writing. poor, poor writing.

7:19 pm
POOR POOR POOR POOR POOR writing, it's floundering like nobody's business. Nobody should be asked to read this. Nobody should be trying to write it. NOBODY. Shit.

7:37 pm
1211 words; more sex, indirectly.

7:48 pm
1505 words. that's got to be some small record. 300 words in 10 minutes. If I could do that for longer stints, I'd *really* be somewhere. Well, as somewhere as this thing is getting. It's just... on, and on, and on. No plot. Still. Nada. Ain't it grand? GRAND GRAND FUCKING GRAND. :)

8:00 pm
1866 words. another 300 words in ten minutes. Dude. Yes, they are horrible, horrible words. horrible and dude and whatever, like, totally (no, that was earlier, and not so much). My head is swimming, my eyes are swimming, I'm hardly keeping them open. Another hour would probably have me at the 2800 I'm shooting for. shooting shooting shooting. 4. ?

8:30 pm
2898 words. one thousand words in just thirty minutes. I was flying. I could keep flying. But. Oh man. Flying! FLYING! I'm getting nauseatedly hungry. :/

continuing Nov. 23

Sun, 23 Nov 2003 20:26:57 GMT

8:54am
Capacino ordered because I wanted something different; didn't really know what I was getting myself in for. So much foam. So bitter. So I'm getting started. I left my notes at home. There's no going back. I remember Ogre was setting foot on pavement just south of the Campanille. ONWARDS!

9:15am
Almost 300 words. Walked them 20 minutes to the rose garden/park. I don't know the area so well, and perhaps I'm just tired of the shopping list checklist thingamy I've been going through to get people to places. Here we had a wonderous

9:30
Almost 600 words, but I'm really, really, REALLY fumbling for them.

10:07
1,363 words. Not the pace I want/need. Need/want. Want/need. Come on, 25,000. If I can get halfway today, I will be the embodiment of cool. Everybody should be the embodiment of cool at some point in their lives, right? If only to know they should never, ever, under any circumstances, be anything nearing the sort again.

10:20
1600.

10:49
2240

11:08
2500. So so so so struggling. Oy oy oy. Brought Girl back in. Trying to decide whether to leave Girl and Ogre at the park with a warm fire, or walk them all back, or ... I don't know. Think I"m going to drag Jenn back, just because I picked her a while back. But what is _she_ doing? When the hell do we get back to father time? Souls? Past lives? Dreams? HELP!?

11:43
3000 words. I've gone with Jenn. I think I'm working on trying to get relatively unique voices. I hope they're not too stereotyped; I have a slew of different stereotypes, which helps, but that shouldn't be my crutch... shouldn't. shouldn't.

12:25
back from the cafe. I don't know if I can keep writing right now. Maybe coffee. Maybe tea. Maybe reading. Meh??

coming into November 23rd

Sun, 23 Nov 2003 10:55:23 GMT

11:49pm
I've been writing here and there (mostly on BART), haven't been transcribing much. So I'll finish transcribing, then post a wordcount, and then PLOW ON THROUGH THE NIGHT. Homina homina homina. I'm going to break all sorts of "oh my god you shouldn't'a done that" rules. If I can. :takes deep breath:

11:52pm
Holy shit that's bad. Okay, I didn't have that much on paper, it's not SO much of a loss to not type it up. I'll just write from here and see what I can do: 13,455 words. Mamma mia.

1:38am
Curses! Foiled again. I... was writing, well, I think. Listening to classical, and running my fractroam program to keep the mind subconsciously active. Then I started wanting to do things to that program, did some research [[on how to 'animate' the desktop on windows]], downloaded a program (example, with source), played with it, then hunted for a painting of mine to play with in photoshop, for a background, played with it. ARGH. I have a relatively nifty background now. But... curses! I'm at a measly 14,603. Hardly 1000 words in an hour and a half. I *think* I made that 1000 in the first hour, but. Argh!!!

2:47am
Argh again! This time it was livejournal, 100poems. I'm behind almost two weeks, there. So I posted a few, read and commented on a few. Horrible, horrible. Now I've hardly written any more at all, this time. One hour passed, maybe 30 minutes writing; made some food (toasted a bagel), some OJ... 15,354 means 750 words. If I was doing that every 30 minutes of writing, and writing every minute of every hour for some decent stretch... I would be ultra-awesome. I've so given up on this novel having any point beyond its own accomplishment. I'm still fighting agains making the novel self-aware. But I think that's the only concession at the moment.

3:36am
Now that's writing. I mean, it's not good, and I'm actually feeling ill (sick to my stomach, and overly warm), but I'm writing lots of words. Amazing what an acid trip can do. Just ran through the first fifteen minutes or so, though I kinda compressed it into three or four. Or ten. Hard to say, you know? Perhaps not. Perhaps I don't know, either. But it's writing, and I need to keep it up. The writing is trickling off, though. I need to run with it harder. Run harder. Harder. :whee: 16,454 words. That's 1,100 in 50 minutes. Oh, and I think I might have fixed a sendmail problem that's been plaguing my server for ... somewhere between a few days and a few weeks. [[tested it by posting a story on imaginaries, then responding to the email of the poster to say it was posted... and the email sent, no problems with permissions. that had been a symptom, besides the error logs, so I think I really did fix it]]

3:48am
posted another story for imaginaries, cleaning the mailbox out. this one took a bit more time as I had to scp it over locally to convert it through word (it was rtf). la la la. no more words written. trying to remind myself I don't care how bad it gets, but I know it's not true, so I'm trying to force myself to believe it. Or if I can just forget about it, then I'll be assuming it de facto and that's fine, too. too too too. dizzzzzzy hot. But I'm dizzy cold the moment I take off my shirt. Admittedly it's a thick, long-sleeved shirt, but eh. eh eh eh. eh.!

5:19am
another block. or rather, another block of wasted time. sad, this is. this is sad. sad. sad. sad. I figured out how to do window transparency with nView (figured out what program was clogging it; itunes. sad, sad, sad. SAD! So now I'm using windows media player, which took fifteen minutes or so to load all my mp3s into. because I can type semi-transparently over the pretty background I made. IE and mozilla even transparent. So pretty. I'm sure I'll get sick of it. And overlapping windows are ass. but. but but but. but. okay, right, the (not so) good news: 17,198 words, which means 750 in the last almost two hours.

6:02am
40 minutes. I'm at 18,050 words. Again, the rate I really need to be keeping up. If I can get another... ten thousand words by the end of today. That being roughly 12-14 hours away, since I"m going to need to sleep hard to be ready for work... then I'll be. ugh. a little over halfway there, with one weekend left. I can't BELIEVE how little is actually happening, with all the words I'm getting out. Seriously. It's *maybe* noon in my story, now, and it started at midnight. I may actually pull of my pseudo-goal of having a single twenty-four hours be my 50,000 words, though I don't seem to be sticking to the character I originally intended. Now playing the gimmick of switching characters; just removing Spot, who was my second character, and introducing Jenn as someone more than just a supporting role. As soon as she's reasonably introduced, she'll be the main character. I _should_ bring in someone else before that switch, though. I have plenty of characters to go around, though, and Berkeley's a small city. :) Eugh. Mild retrospect puts me at 4500 words for six hours. "Another" ten in 12-14 is highly unlikely. But. Slugging along. Must stop updating this! ;)

6:30am
crap, nothing written. fading? zoning? innnng? I read my sunday comics. mustwritemustwritemustwrite.

7:00am
bad bad bad news. my right wrist is really starting to hurt. eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep! 18,767 words. Not sure what would be best in the medium to medium-long run, so far as nanowrimo is concerned. I'm writing. It's crap, but I'm writing. 700 words in an hour. This was actually writing most of the hour, so I'm slowing down considerably. Sleep is out of the question, but. Something else, perhaps? Read for an hour? I'll try that. Amy's up in 30 minutes, so there will be distractions until we're on the road. I'll close this up here and start another one later.

this weekend was a bust?

Mon, 17 Nov 2003 17:53:10 GMT

I will persevere! I will!

I wrote 2000 words. 1000 of which were a different story, self-contained. But. I will persevere! Some miracle will save me! Something. I will write more. More.

http://www.erif.org/art/show.php?piece=HeartLoveSea
http://www.erif.org/art/show.php?piece=My%20First%20Tree
http://www.erif.org/art/show.php?piece=Other%20Landscape
http://www.erif.org/art/show.php?piece=Pink%20Umbrella

This was my sunday.

to the pain!

Fri, 14 Nov 2003 13:57:32 GMT

A battle to the pain, this is. It's... The morning of the 14th for me. 6am. I wrote a little bit on the way to work (probably not even 200 words, haven't typed them up), and when I got home I read most of December's F&SF. It felt so good to read. It felt so good not to write. Not to mention, I'm stuck again. I think I'm going to have to make it more and more fantastical in order to get anywhere with it. I have some relatively fantastical ideas that I could play with, but the presentation was trying to be ... magical realism, to some extent. Something I aspire to.

day 12 coming to a close?

Thu, 13 Nov 2003 03:05:05 GMT

7:04pm
Again, I'll update timestamps within this. Longer entries, but less clutter. And who knows, maybe I don't have anything to say? I'm tired today, managed three hours of sleep, and took a sudafed in the morning. Work was torture, but it wouldn't have been any less so if I'd been more with it. I was amazingly functional, if not so successful. Right. Writing. Got a ride in (typical MWF), but rode BART home; made 400 words on BART that I just managed to type in.
more to come? I hope. Amy's off somewhere (studying). The writing is at another hard part, travel; I have a third conversationalist to try to move things along, get more perspectives... but we'll see. We'll see.

8:04pm
Went out to dinner with Amy, came back, did a spell check (good to keep the text at least moderately free of errors, even if I don't let myself edit further than a page (physical, printed, two-pages-to-a-page page) back. Did a word count in word. It gives me 10,792. 31 word difference is not enough to worry about. But interesting. I wonder what the two programs are treating differently. Possibly things around a --. I'd expect word to be smarter about that, and chances are I have 30 of them. Or something. I'm going to write now, really. 1300 words to go to break even with my behindness?

8:30pm
Not a single word written. I cleaned up the home directory of my personal account on my personal server. A little. Sorted things out. More than I did would obviously be several days work, so I can't do that. Must. Write...?

11:46pm
Do not ask where the time went. Suffice it to say it is gone. And the words did not replace it. I'll bank this as my original "not going to be able to manage anything tomorrow" from yesterday, even though I did manage three hours of sleep. What I was about to do in the story is just wrong. It will not happen. Good night. 11199 words. :/ Goodbye day 12.