Oct. 12th, 2009

agilebrit: (OMG MATH)
Time for the Weekly Word Count.

I slid in under the deadline last night; my Writing Buddy gave me fodder and I madly scribbled. Let's see where we stand, shall we?

Last week's word count: 114,748
This week's word count: 117,310
Word count for the week: 2,562

And now I'm going to reset the count, because there's a scene in the novelthing that doesn't fit, so I'm excising it, and I don't see me working on the Ghost Ship story any time soon, so...yeah.

New baseline: 110,982
agilebrit: (OMG MATH)
Time for the Weekly Word Count.

I slid in under the deadline last night; my Writing Buddy gave me fodder and I madly scribbled. Let's see where we stand, shall we?

Last week's word count: 114,748
This week's word count: 117,310
Word count for the week: 2,562

And now I'm going to reset the count, because there's a scene in the novelthing that doesn't fit, so I'm excising it, and I don't see me working on the Ghost Ship story any time soon, so...yeah.

New baseline: 110,982
agilebrit: (That which does not kill me)
A follow-on to last week's:

Janni watched Ben's car drive down the street, until it turned the corner out of the neighborhood and was lost to sight. Maybe she should have fought him harder on leaving, but his desperation had been nearly palpable and she wasn't sure that she'd have been doing him any favors to keep him home.

She sat on the couch, bereft. She missed him already. And, oh, yeah, she'd caught the lack of promise to come back, but calling him on it seemed like twisting the knife he already had buried in his chest. She wished--

She wished she could convince him that she didn't care who he'd slept with in prison, or why. The fact that he'd come back to her in one piece was all that mattered.

Well. One piece physically. Psychologically and emotionally, he might be in a worse place than he'd been when she'd found him in the parking lot of the reception center all those years ago. Haunted eyes and a gun beside him on the seat...

Gun. Oh, god.

She checked his sock drawer for the Glock and cried into his pillow when she found it missing. The note he'd left didn't help: Knew you'd look. Not planning on using it. Just in case, honey.

Signed with a heart, with a B in the middle. Her own heart cracked right in half.



Comments are ♥♥♥. And yes, there's some shameless linkspam in this entry.
agilebrit: (That which does not kill me)
A follow-on to last week's:

Janni watched Ben's car drive down the street, until it turned the corner out of the neighborhood and was lost to sight. Maybe she should have fought him harder on leaving, but his desperation had been nearly palpable and she wasn't sure that she'd have been doing him any favors to keep him home.

She sat on the couch, bereft. She missed him already. And, oh, yeah, she'd caught the lack of promise to come back, but calling him on it seemed like twisting the knife he already had buried in his chest. She wished--

She wished she could convince him that she didn't care who he'd slept with in prison, or why. The fact that he'd come back to her in one piece was all that mattered.

Well. One piece physically. Psychologically and emotionally, he might be in a worse place than he'd been when she'd found him in the parking lot of the reception center all those years ago. Haunted eyes and a gun beside him on the seat...

Gun. Oh, god.

She checked his sock drawer for the Glock and cried into his pillow when she found it missing. The note he'd left didn't help: Knew you'd look. Not planning on using it. Just in case, honey.

Signed with a heart, with a B in the middle. Her own heart cracked right in half.



Comments are ♥♥♥. And yes, there's some shameless linkspam in this entry.

*sigh*

Oct. 12th, 2009 01:17 pm
agilebrit: (Well shit.)
My printer is three and a half years old. Yesterday, it had a paper jam while printing out my pages for my Writing Buddy--and has been malfunctioning ever since. We've lubricated the bar thingy that the print head rides on, which worked for a little while, although it was spooging random ink on the pages it was printing. That's fine for stuff I want to give to my Writing Buddy, or print out for Da Boy for school. Not so much if I want to send a manuscript to a professional publication for consideration.

Then it threw more "paper jams" at me, even though the paper was in no way actually jammed.

I want a new printer. This one's been sucking at me for awhile, actually. Hubby is balking. "It should last five years," he says. I tend to agree, but what are you gonna do? I can't be printer-less.

And then, of course, I was poking through the Cow story to see if I still thought it was up to snuff, and found some egregious extra words on page 44 where my editing job fell down.

Not a good day.

*chants* I have payment in the bank. I have payment in the bank. I made my wordcount for the week and might even have a satisfactory ending. Maybe. Ben is as whole as he gets, I solved my "dramatic tension" problem (possibly by cheating, but... whatever), and I had a good weekend wherein I got to hang out with other writers for awhile.

*sigh*

Oct. 12th, 2009 01:17 pm
agilebrit: (Well shit.)
My printer is three and a half years old. Yesterday, it had a paper jam while printing out my pages for my Writing Buddy--and has been malfunctioning ever since. We've lubricated the bar thingy that the print head rides on, which worked for a little while, although it was spooging random ink on the pages it was printing. That's fine for stuff I want to give to my Writing Buddy, or print out for Da Boy for school. Not so much if I want to send a manuscript to a professional publication for consideration.

Then it threw more "paper jams" at me, even though the paper was in no way actually jammed.

I want a new printer. This one's been sucking at me for awhile, actually. Hubby is balking. "It should last five years," he says. I tend to agree, but what are you gonna do? I can't be printer-less.

And then, of course, I was poking through the Cow story to see if I still thought it was up to snuff, and found some egregious extra words on page 44 where my editing job fell down.

Not a good day.

*chants* I have payment in the bank. I have payment in the bank. I made my wordcount for the week and might even have a satisfactory ending. Maybe. Ben is as whole as he gets, I solved my "dramatic tension" problem (possibly by cheating, but... whatever), and I had a good weekend wherein I got to hang out with other writers for awhile.

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