'Tis Monday...

And time for...

The Weekly Word Count. /reverb

This week is better, especially since I started a new story for Writers of the Future. Not much better, you understand, but better.

Last week's word count: 103,240
This week's word count: 105,796 (between the novelthing and the Ghost Ship Story)
Word count for the week: 2,556

Not bad. Not great, not gangbusters like I was doing when I was cranking out a thousand words a day each on the novel and the Cow story, but I'll take it. It's early days yet.

'Tis Monday...

And time for...

The Weekly Word Count. /reverb

This week is better, especially since I started a new story for Writers of the Future. Not much better, you understand, but better.

Last week's word count: 103,240
This week's word count: 105,796 (between the novelthing and the Ghost Ship Story)
Word count for the week: 2,556

Not bad. Not great, not gangbusters like I was doing when I was cranking out a thousand words a day each on the novel and the Cow story, but I'll take it. It's early days yet.

Monday Maunderings...

I'm heading out to Borders with a 40% off coupon and the netbook in a little while. I leave you with a snippet. Early days in the prison, West has been tormenting Ben, and go:

Ben made a noncommittal noise and grabbed a pair of jeans. "If I asked you to kill me," he said, too casually, "would you do it?"

Angeline busied herself at the stove with a steak, her back to the room. She didn't want him to see her jaw tighten, and tried to keep her tone light. "Och, haven't you already asked me to?"

"Yeah, but the first time I was still on the table and the time after that wasn't long after you brought me home." Oh, god, he was keeping track.

"You keep thinking you're at the end of your rope, puppy, but then you find more of it." She turned the steak over and spiced it. "If you really want to die, I'm fair certain you could find a way to do yourself."

"Yeah. Came close, a couple of times."

Her heart crawled up her throat and tried to choke her. "What stopped you, then?"

"Dunno, really." His voice had a dreamy quality. She looked over her shoulder to see that he was slouched down with his eyes closed, rubbing the scars on his wrists. Again. He'd put the jeans on but not bothered with a shirt. "Maybe the idea that Janni's looking for me and she'd be pissed if I offed myself before she found me."

Comments are ♥♥♥.

Also, for the writers (and Neil Gaiman fans) on my flist, this is the most awesome thing you will see today. Or possibly all year.

Monday Maunderings...

I'm heading out to Borders with a 40% off coupon and the netbook in a little while. I leave you with a snippet. Early days in the prison, West has been tormenting Ben, and go:

Ben made a noncommittal noise and grabbed a pair of jeans. "If I asked you to kill me," he said, too casually, "would you do it?"

Angeline busied herself at the stove with a steak, her back to the room. She didn't want him to see her jaw tighten, and tried to keep her tone light. "Och, haven't you already asked me to?"

"Yeah, but the first time I was still on the table and the time after that wasn't long after you brought me home." Oh, god, he was keeping track.

"You keep thinking you're at the end of your rope, puppy, but then you find more of it." She turned the steak over and spiced it. "If you really want to die, I'm fair certain you could find a way to do yourself."

"Yeah. Came close, a couple of times."

Her heart crawled up her throat and tried to choke her. "What stopped you, then?"

"Dunno, really." His voice had a dreamy quality. She looked over her shoulder to see that he was slouched down with his eyes closed, rubbing the scars on his wrists. Again. He'd put the jeans on but not bothered with a shirt. "Maybe the idea that Janni's looking for me and she'd be pissed if I offed myself before she found me."

Comments are ♥♥♥.

Also, for the writers (and Neil Gaiman fans) on my flist, this is the most awesome thing you will see today. Or possibly all year.

(no subject)

...

When you're writing an attempted suicide scene...

And it's making you sick to your stomach...

That's a good thing.

Right?

(no subject)

...

When you're writing an attempted suicide scene...

And it's making you sick to your stomach...

That's a good thing.

Right?