Monday!

Well, this should be interesting...

I have not done the math yet. Let's do it and see where we are, shall I?

Last week's word count: 92,853
This week's word count: 97,232
Word count for the week: 4,379

*squints* Better...

Of course, a lot of it is that repetitive bullshit I was bemoaning yesterday, so much of it will probably be cut and/or combined in the finished product, but this is why we calls it a "draft." Or, in my case, an "outline."

And then I had the horrible thought this morning that maybe Ben should be raped in prison by someone who hates his guts and he could say "Yeah, I was, but not by her. Trust me, I know the difference."

And then I ripped a hunk of hair out of my head and locked my Muse in a tight, windowless room. Where he will stay until he stops piling on the poor guy.

Forewarned is forearmed: I'll probably be spamming somewhat today, because I need to tell y'all about a very spiffy book by the handsome and talented ccfinlay, and I've also got the new issue of Realms of Fantasy to talk about. Plus it's Monday, so we'll have, um... *comes up with a new title for "Snippet Saturday" on the fly* Monday Maunderings. Yeah.

Monday!

Well, this should be interesting...

I have not done the math yet. Let's do it and see where we are, shall I?

Last week's word count: 92,853
This week's word count: 97,232
Word count for the week: 4,379

*squints* Better...

Of course, a lot of it is that repetitive bullshit I was bemoaning yesterday, so much of it will probably be cut and/or combined in the finished product, but this is why we calls it a "draft." Or, in my case, an "outline."

And then I had the horrible thought this morning that maybe Ben should be raped in prison by someone who hates his guts and he could say "Yeah, I was, but not by her. Trust me, I know the difference."

And then I ripped a hunk of hair out of my head and locked my Muse in a tight, windowless room. Where he will stay until he stops piling on the poor guy.

Forewarned is forearmed: I'll probably be spamming somewhat today, because I need to tell y'all about a very spiffy book by the handsome and talented ccfinlay, and I've also got the new issue of Realms of Fantasy to talk about. Plus it's Monday, so we'll have, um... *comes up with a new title for "Snippet Saturday" on the fly* Monday Maunderings. Yeah.

Going over what I did yesterday...

And the conversation with Chambliss is not the same one that he's having with everyone else. So. There's that. For those of you keeping score at home, Chambliss is Alex's butler, who has apparently done some...questionable...things, himself. They're on Alex's yacht not long after Ben's rescue from Vampire Prison, and Ben, unable to sleep, is on his fourth scotch in the kitchen.

And, go:

"With respect, Master Ben, from one military man to another--everyone breaks."

"The insurgents didn't break me. Not like this."

"But all they used was pain and fear. You fought against that because it's in your nature. Your defenses were up. Stoking the anger of people like us doesn't work." Chambliss tilted his head. "Had they been wise enough to send in a soft young woman to tend your wounds and hold you during your heroin withdrawal, the outcome might have been quite different."

"Lucky for me they didn't think of it, I guess. Pretty sure their mindset wouldn't let them operate that way. Put an unchaperoned woman in the same room with a filthy American who might ravage her at the least provocation?" Ben snorted. "Not likely."

"Especially if she painted herself as a fellow prisoner in need of succor. Ring any bells with your vampire lady?"

Ben put his chin in his hand. "Yeah, she was trapped there too. But she wasn't--"

"--trying to break you, no. But for a certain kind of man, sincerity is deadly."

"She accomplished in six weeks what Afghani insurgents couldn't do in seven months." His shaking hand rattled the bottle against his glass as he poured himself another. "I'd have died for her, Chambliss. Nearly did." A couple more swallows. "And I can't talk to Janni about this because I wouldn't even know where to start. And that feels like I'm keeping stuff from her, which feeds the guilt, and I'm in this fucking spiral of doom that's drowning me. And thus--" He set the empty glass down with a thump. "I drink. Sorry. Shouldn't saddle you with it, you've got more than enough to handle with Alex--"

"If I hadn't wanted to know," Chambliss said gently, "I wouldn't have asked. If I can ease your burden, then I'm satisfied that perhaps I've gone some way towards putting my own karma to rights. Somehow, it's always the things we do, rather than the things done to us, that weigh us down the most."

Going over what I did yesterday...

And the conversation with Chambliss is not the same one that he's having with everyone else. So. There's that. For those of you keeping score at home, Chambliss is Alex's butler, who has apparently done some...questionable...things, himself. They're on Alex's yacht not long after Ben's rescue from Vampire Prison, and Ben, unable to sleep, is on his fourth scotch in the kitchen.

And, go:

"With respect, Master Ben, from one military man to another--everyone breaks."

"The insurgents didn't break me. Not like this."

"But all they used was pain and fear. You fought against that because it's in your nature. Your defenses were up. Stoking the anger of people like us doesn't work." Chambliss tilted his head. "Had they been wise enough to send in a soft young woman to tend your wounds and hold you during your heroin withdrawal, the outcome might have been quite different."

"Lucky for me they didn't think of it, I guess. Pretty sure their mindset wouldn't let them operate that way. Put an unchaperoned woman in the same room with a filthy American who might ravage her at the least provocation?" Ben snorted. "Not likely."

"Especially if she painted herself as a fellow prisoner in need of succor. Ring any bells with your vampire lady?"

Ben put his chin in his hand. "Yeah, she was trapped there too. But she wasn't--"

"--trying to break you, no. But for a certain kind of man, sincerity is deadly."

"She accomplished in six weeks what Afghani insurgents couldn't do in seven months." His shaking hand rattled the bottle against his glass as he poured himself another. "I'd have died for her, Chambliss. Nearly did." A couple more swallows. "And I can't talk to Janni about this because I wouldn't even know where to start. And that feels like I'm keeping stuff from her, which feeds the guilt, and I'm in this fucking spiral of doom that's drowning me. And thus--" He set the empty glass down with a thump. "I drink. Sorry. Shouldn't saddle you with it, you've got more than enough to handle with Alex--"

"If I hadn't wanted to know," Chambliss said gently, "I wouldn't have asked. If I can ease your burden, then I'm satisfied that perhaps I've gone some way towards putting my own karma to rights. Somehow, it's always the things we do, rather than the things done to us, that weigh us down the most."