They're all masochists at heart.*
Nov. 14th, 2009 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bending_sickleNano: Catching up on a lost day is murder. I'm still 926 words behind, despite a 2,246 word marathon.
So far, Saunders has cooed over the car Chip found for him like Dean babying his darling Impala and Chip has entered flashback-land as he remembers the road trip he did with Steven. Oh, I didn't mention Chip's gay? Well, of course I haven't, he's been running from zombies. Sexuality or even sex are rather pointless when you're running from zombies. But he is and he had this huge romance with Steven in collage, but Steven is dead now like a large percentage of the country. But Icarus the not-really-angel is pretty fine lookin'...
I also haven't mentioned what Chip looks like. I suck at physical descriptions of my characters - actually most descriptions - but I can see them in my head just fine, and now Chip is no longer black and Shadow of American Gods's slightly less imposing twin but rather Season 2 Sam Winchester's lookalike because damnitall I had to go and mention bangs, right? That completely changed Chip in my head in 0.01 seconds flat. *sigh* Hi, new version of Chip. At least you're still tall, and you were always lanky in my head.
Also, omg what the hell is the goddamn plot?!? I'm almost halfway through and have no idea what the climax is going to be. There's a zombie-chase and angel-awakening coming up, then some yellow-brick-roading to Resistance Camp, but... Argh.
20745 / 50000 words. 41% done!
Meme of the Day: via![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lienne
first: The girl named Chance is standing in the rain, plain and skinny-tall girl shivering beneath April night sky pissing rain like icywet needles, and she can't stop giggling.
last on page 50: "Then what are you gonna say, Sheryl?" he asks, not in the mood for guessing games, not really in the mood to listen to her or anyone else, for that matter.
second on page 100: "Jesus H. Christ," Sadie whispers, one hand to her chest like she's having a heart attack, someone scared halfway to death and back again, and she takes the unlit cigarette from her mouth and lays it on the table.
penultimate on page 150: Sometime later, an hour, two hours, and Deacon and Sadie are standing on Cance's big front porch again.
final: "This sort of shit isn't anyone's fault, Chance," and in another moment the orderlies have taken Dancy Flammarion somewhere else and the nurse hurried them from the visiting room and down the long and sterile hallway that leads back to the day.
first: Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.
last on page 50: I waited for her to cover her mouth with her hand, in shock and dismay.
second on page 100: They stretched out my muscles for a few minutes before pedaling my feet to lessen the stiffness in my legs.
penultimate on page 150: I could masturbate into a sock.
final: It is moving across time, coming to me in every language of the world, and it sounds like pure love.
first: It was a tidy brownstone on Ninth Street near my home, ne that I had passed many times without noticing.
last on page 50: "When you lock something in a box for twenty years...it begins to stink."
second on page 100: "I was kind of asleep."
penultimate on page 150: "Your mother's not exactly old school when it comes to religion."
final: Then the figure in the window opens the void of its mouth and screams.
first: Somehow she knew that I'd killed a man earlier that morning.
last on page 50: "Eventually, she'll be required to make the same choices that you will make."
second on page 100: A quiet remark in certain circles was that both of them should overcome society's conventions and take full solace in each other.
penultimate on page 150: I was overwhelmed - speechless.
final: "Okay - it's time to move on."
first: I'll make my report as if I told a story, for I was taught as a child on my homeworld that Truth is a matter of the imagination.
last on page 50: The driver named the thirteen for me, and tole me stories of avalanches, and landboats blown off the road by mountain winds, and snowplow crews marooned for weeks in inaccessible heights, and so on, in a friendly effort to terrify me.
second on page 100: Rather reluctantly I set of west again, and came to erhenrang early in Gor, the first month of autumn.
penultimate on page 150: Guyrny Susmy.
final: "Will you tell us about the other worlds out among the stars - the other kinds of men, the other lives?"
first: Clare: It's hard being left behind.
last on page 50: "Okay?"
second on page 100: "Good."
penultimate on page 150: I am moving stiffly; cold is unkind to joints, and I'm slowly realizing that it is pretty cold out here by the lake, probably in the low twenties.
final: He is coming, and I am here.
first: For many years my home has been in the Northern Frontier Province of Kenya, that vast stretch of semi-arid thornbush, covering some hundred and twenty thousand square miles, which extends from mount Kenya to the Abyssinian border.
last on page 50: George considered that this absence of game was probably due to the great number of Sabburu stock which were eating up the grazing and rapidly denuding the mountain.
second on page 100: Sometimes, we watched her stalking waterbuck, which she drove towards us, at others, followed her tracks while she was in pursuit of bushbuck; when doing this she would cleverly cut in a straight line across their winding tracks.
penultimate on page 150: During the following days I went on taking food to the spot near to which we believed the cubs to be.
final: May God protect them from any arrow and bless them all and their kingdom.
first: The night before he went to London, Richard Mayhew was not enjoying himself.
last on page 50: Then he did it again, with his left hand.
second on page 100: There was a buzz of voices around him, and somebody pushed Richard to the ground.
penultimate on page 150: He led the Earl to a throne-like carved wooden seat, in which, a trifle unsteadily, the Earl sat down.
final: And they walked away together through the hole in the wall, abck into the darkness, leaving nothing behind them; not even the doorway.
first: Making one's home in an unpublished novel wasn't without its compensations.
last on page 50: "Two hundred."
second on page 100: But this wasn't a rally about the price of cheese or whether the Whig party were dangerously right-wing and anti-Welsh, nor of whether Goliath had the right to force legislation compelling everyone to eat SmileyBurger at least twice s week.
penultimate on page 150: "Are you okay?"
final: Landen would have been proud of me.
first: This is where the dragons went.
last on page 50: That was it, thought Vimes.
second on page 100: "Tha's right!"
penultimate on page 150: To his astonishment, he found himself reaching over and scratching it behind the ears, or at least behind the two spiky things at the sides of its head which were presumably its ears.
final: But then, what does?
Song of the Day: Imogen Heap, "Thriller" (Michael Jackson Cover), Live
Links of the Day:
Supernatural:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
amplificathon's Podfic And I Will Walk On Water 1/18 by tracy_loo_who, read by fullondazzled
jensenated's Picspam Crying!Dean
zimshan's Meta 'The Balance of Red & Blue': Color Symbolism in context of Fate & Free Will in Season Five
balefully's 5x09 Review
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
leonidaslion's flocked 5x09 Review
teand's 5x09 Review
flwrpwr_vampyre's 5x09 Review
Random Fandom
shirozora's Doctor Who/Supernatural Art: The Angels Have the Phonebox - ♥!
The best TV series of the ’00s
After Dollhouse Cancelled – Joss Whedon Fans Wonder What’s Next - Oh, Fox, why do you suck so bad? Why must you cancel all my shows?
Topatoco's Holiday & Greeting Cards - Comic cards for the geeks amongst us :)
Random:
rex_dart's The British Foreign Office: entirely staffed by doctors. - The joys of deciphering historical papers.
He Took a Polaroid Every Day, Until the Day He Died ; Jamie Livingston's Photography Website
* Henry Miller
So far, Saunders has cooed over the car Chip found for him like Dean babying his darling Impala and Chip has entered flashback-land as he remembers the road trip he did with Steven. Oh, I didn't mention Chip's gay? Well, of course I haven't, he's been running from zombies. Sexuality or even sex are rather pointless when you're running from zombies. But he is and he had this huge romance with Steven in collage, but Steven is dead now like a large percentage of the country. But Icarus the not-really-angel is pretty fine lookin'...
I also haven't mentioned what Chip looks like. I suck at physical descriptions of my characters - actually most descriptions - but I can see them in my head just fine, and now Chip is no longer black and Shadow of American Gods's slightly less imposing twin but rather Season 2 Sam Winchester's lookalike because damnitall I had to go and mention bangs, right? That completely changed Chip in my head in 0.01 seconds flat. *sigh* Hi, new version of Chip. At least you're still tall, and you were always lanky in my head.
Also, omg what the hell is the goddamn plot?!? I'm almost halfway through and have no idea what the climax is going to be. There's a zombie-chase and angel-awakening coming up, then some yellow-brick-roading to Resistance Camp, but... Argh.
“Aw fuck,” said Chip, getting out of the car. “There’s steam coming out, man. What the hell?”
Steven scampered to his side. “Don’t –”
“Ow! Ow, fuck, not cool!”
“Don’t touch the hood,” finished Steven. “It’s hot. Idiot.”
“Jerk,” countered Chip around a mouthful of burnt fingers. “How ‘m I supposed to know?”
“Uh, steam? Steam hot?” Steven tousled Chip’s hair – which he wore long, bangs falling into his eyes, a style he would keep for only a few more months. “Let me see.”
Chip offered his red and spit-covered fingers up for inspection. Steven rubbed lightly at the angry-looking skin.
“Ow.”
Steven rolled his eyes. “You’ll live.”
“Like you’re a doctor,” muttered Chip, then added, “What about the car?”
“That, dear Chip, is truly a medical mystery. Let’s prep’ the patient.” With great theatrics, Steven proceeded to wrap his hands in his sweater and lift the hood. More steam bellowed out.
“The patient seems to be on fire,” said Chip, looking over Stevens shoulder into the engine, which to him made as much sense as his high school chemistry, which thank God he would never ever have to see again.
“ ‘I smell toast!’ ” exclaimed Steven in a falsetto, his grin widening further at Chip’s confusion. “Oh, Americans, you’re all so endearingly local.” He tossed his sweater at Chip. “Nurse,” he said with a nod.
Chip sighed. “I’ll get the toolbox.”
Chip watched Steven work as he stood in the rain, handing him tool after tool – which he called for via descriptions, like “the one with round head, the small one” and “the one with that thing at the end" – after Chip proved to be as ignorant in tools as he was in car engines.
“Pass me the one with the flat head,” said Steven.
Chip rummaged around the toolbox, looking for yet another exotic tool, then stopped. “You mean the screwdriver, don’t you?”
“Yup.”
“I say again: jerk,” said Chip, rummaging for the screwdriver. He wondered how Steven could see enough to work, between the night and the rain. He wondered whether Steven was cold, stooped under the hood in just his shirt, rain plastering the thin cloth to his back and trickling down the exposed skin between shirt and low-slung jeans. He wondered whether his skin was as smooth as the rain made it seem.
When he handed Steven the screwdriver, his fingers lingered.
Meme of the Day: via
lienne- TakefourTEN WHY NOT books off your bookshelf.
- Write the first sentence
- Write the last sentence on page fifty
- Write the second sentence on page one hundred
- Write the next to the last sentence on page one hundred fifty
- Write the final sentence of the book
- Let your friends guess what book it is.
I.
first: The girl named Chance is standing in the rain, plain and skinny-tall girl shivering beneath April night sky pissing rain like icywet needles, and she can't stop giggling.
last on page 50: "Then what are you gonna say, Sheryl?" he asks, not in the mood for guessing games, not really in the mood to listen to her or anyone else, for that matter.
second on page 100: "Jesus H. Christ," Sadie whispers, one hand to her chest like she's having a heart attack, someone scared halfway to death and back again, and she takes the unlit cigarette from her mouth and lays it on the table.
penultimate on page 150: Sometime later, an hour, two hours, and Deacon and Sadie are standing on Cance's big front porch again.
final: "This sort of shit isn't anyone's fault, Chance," and in another moment the orderlies have taken Dancy Flammarion somewhere else and the nurse hurried them from the visiting room and down the long and sterile hallway that leads back to the day.
II.
first: Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.
last on page 50: I waited for her to cover her mouth with her hand, in shock and dismay.
second on page 100: They stretched out my muscles for a few minutes before pedaling my feet to lessen the stiffness in my legs.
penultimate on page 150: I could masturbate into a sock.
final: It is moving across time, coming to me in every language of the world, and it sounds like pure love.
III.
first: It was a tidy brownstone on Ninth Street near my home, ne that I had passed many times without noticing.
last on page 50: "When you lock something in a box for twenty years...it begins to stink."
second on page 100: "I was kind of asleep."
penultimate on page 150: "Your mother's not exactly old school when it comes to religion."
final: Then the figure in the window opens the void of its mouth and screams.
IV.
first: Somehow she knew that I'd killed a man earlier that morning.
last on page 50: "Eventually, she'll be required to make the same choices that you will make."
second on page 100: A quiet remark in certain circles was that both of them should overcome society's conventions and take full solace in each other.
penultimate on page 150: I was overwhelmed - speechless.
final: "Okay - it's time to move on."
V.
first: I'll make my report as if I told a story, for I was taught as a child on my homeworld that Truth is a matter of the imagination.
last on page 50: The driver named the thirteen for me, and tole me stories of avalanches, and landboats blown off the road by mountain winds, and snowplow crews marooned for weeks in inaccessible heights, and so on, in a friendly effort to terrify me.
second on page 100: Rather reluctantly I set of west again, and came to erhenrang early in Gor, the first month of autumn.
penultimate on page 150: Guyrny Susmy.
final: "Will you tell us about the other worlds out among the stars - the other kinds of men, the other lives?"
VI.
first: Clare: It's hard being left behind.
last on page 50: "Okay?"
second on page 100: "Good."
penultimate on page 150: I am moving stiffly; cold is unkind to joints, and I'm slowly realizing that it is pretty cold out here by the lake, probably in the low twenties.
final: He is coming, and I am here.
VII.
first: For many years my home has been in the Northern Frontier Province of Kenya, that vast stretch of semi-arid thornbush, covering some hundred and twenty thousand square miles, which extends from mount Kenya to the Abyssinian border.
last on page 50: George considered that this absence of game was probably due to the great number of Sabburu stock which were eating up the grazing and rapidly denuding the mountain.
second on page 100: Sometimes, we watched her stalking waterbuck, which she drove towards us, at others, followed her tracks while she was in pursuit of bushbuck; when doing this she would cleverly cut in a straight line across their winding tracks.
penultimate on page 150: During the following days I went on taking food to the spot near to which we believed the cubs to be.
final: May God protect them from any arrow and bless them all and their kingdom.
VIII.
first: The night before he went to London, Richard Mayhew was not enjoying himself.
last on page 50: Then he did it again, with his left hand.
second on page 100: There was a buzz of voices around him, and somebody pushed Richard to the ground.
penultimate on page 150: He led the Earl to a throne-like carved wooden seat, in which, a trifle unsteadily, the Earl sat down.
final: And they walked away together through the hole in the wall, abck into the darkness, leaving nothing behind them; not even the doorway.
IX.
first: Making one's home in an unpublished novel wasn't without its compensations.
last on page 50: "Two hundred."
second on page 100: But this wasn't a rally about the price of cheese or whether the Whig party were dangerously right-wing and anti-Welsh, nor of whether Goliath had the right to force legislation compelling everyone to eat SmileyBurger at least twice s week.
penultimate on page 150: "Are you okay?"
final: Landen would have been proud of me.
X.
first: This is where the dragons went.
last on page 50: That was it, thought Vimes.
second on page 100: "Tha's right!"
penultimate on page 150: To his astonishment, he found himself reaching over and scratching it behind the ears, or at least behind the two spiky things at the sides of its head which were presumably its ears.
final: But then, what does?
Song of the Day: Imogen Heap, "Thriller" (Michael Jackson Cover), Live
Links of the Day:
Supernatural:
amplificathon's Podfic And I Will Walk On Water 1/18 by tracy_loo_who, read by fullondazzledjensenated's Picspam Crying!Deanzimshan's Meta 'The Balance of Red & Blue': Color Symbolism in context of Fate & Free Will in Season Fivebalefully's 5x09 Reviewleonidaslion's flocked 5x09 Review teand's 5x09 Reviewflwrpwr_vampyre's 5x09 ReviewRandom Fandom
shirozora's Doctor Who/Supernatural Art: The Angels Have the Phonebox - ♥!The best TV series of the ’00s
After Dollhouse Cancelled – Joss Whedon Fans Wonder What’s Next - Oh, Fox, why do you suck so bad? Why must you cancel all my shows?
Topatoco's Holiday & Greeting Cards - Comic cards for the geeks amongst us :)
Random:
rex_dart's The British Foreign Office: entirely staffed by doctors. - The joys of deciphering historical papers.He Took a Polaroid Every Day, Until the Day He Died ; Jamie Livingston's Photography Website
* Henry Miller
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-11-14 01:34 pm (UTC)But I have an excuse! I'm sick! Yes! *coughs a little* Yes... Really. Very. Uh. It doesn't help my wordcount any, but that way I can pretend it wasn't mere laziness. Yesh.
And your Nano is still lookin' pretty damn fine. OMFGZ. So, so fine. *stares* I want to go cry now. A lot. DAMN YOU WOMAN DAMN YOU AND YOUR AMAZING WRITING *shakes fist*
*pouts*
*goes off to write*
(please send help)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-14 01:49 pm (UTC)And I'm delighted you like the excerpt :D but crying's forbidden! No one's even dead yet! (Well...)
Go, write!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-14 09:21 pm (UTC)I think I didn't actually write from Wednesday to Friday because I had to study and had been nursing this bug the whole week, so I'm flipping out right now. About 3k to go still to reach today's goal.
AND DANG. IT'S 10PM ALREADY.
I always think 'there's still tomorrow', but then I realise that by then, 2k more will be added to the needed wordcount. It's insane!
... but anyway. We can do it, right?
*poms poms right back at you*
By the end of the month, we'll have accomplished something awesome. That's worth suffering for, yesh.
You go write, too!
(and please, nevermind the errors in this post, there are bound to be some)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-14 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 10:53 am (UTC)*cheers you on*
no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 11:22 am (UTC)What's going on in your novel nowadays? Where's Sammy, and how're his migraines treating him? Share? *puppy eyes of doooom*
no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 12:44 pm (UTC)Uh, how did I miss you saying that?
*takes a breath* HOW AWESOME IS YOUR NANO GONNA GET?! DANG YOU *shakes fist* I'M PRINTING THIS OUT THE VERY SECOND YOUR KEYBOARD STOPS SMOKING. :D :D Just so you know.
Uh, yeah.
At the moment, Sam is in the city of DOOM, having some onion tart and tea with an older lady. *grins*
And his migraines have been treating him well lately, but I wrote this major flashback yesterday back to when he started having them, so maybe that kind of doesn't count. But in present time, I've been treating Sammy reaaaal well. *coughs*
Also, Dean is stuck in 2014, telling Cas to lay off the happy-pills, Zachariah is being a fucker, a little girl likes to dress up as Barbara Eden in I Dream Of Jeannie and Bobby is back home, being decidedly not amused by it all.
All is well with the world :D
no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 01:10 pm (UTC)*giggles hysterically* I love the City of Dooooom :D Onion tart, eh? Oh god, I'd love to eavesdrop on his conversation with the older lady. *more puppy eyes*
Deeeeeaaaan! Hippie!Cas and Zach! Little girl in adorable dress-up! Unamused Booooobby!
I guess you can tell I'm full of glee and squee over your novel, right? *claps like an excited seal*
no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 02:08 pm (UTC)Uh. The old lady basically just was introduced so someone would feed Sam. *g* But it's not actually a happy conversation :( Damnit, how do I always manage to do this? Being all doom and gloom is much easier than being funny and interesting. *shifty eyes* Everything sucks. And I'm kind of thinking I'm writing the wrong story because writing the flashback was much more fun. Which maybe makes me think that I am, in fact, writing the right story, because this thing isn't supposed easy, so yeah. My brain has withered and died, as you can probably can tell.
And I don't think it's actually necessary or even possible to give the reader a description of how your MC looks in full accuracy, especially if it's from Chip's point of view. I mean, how would you want to do that, anyway, if not making him stand in front of a mirror and let him do exactly as you said, "And uh, this is my S2-Sam-esque hair and all"? *grins* Escapes me.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 05:56 pm (UTC)As for Chip, I'll see if I can sneak in a description. So far he's just the guy with the crowbar and panic attacks. *sigh* Silly Chip.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 08:46 pm (UTC);) Even if I haven't read that much yet, I really really like Chip. *smishes him* I want to read the whole story! I want a PDF, so I can print it out and take it to school and melt away at the awesomeness! :D Just, I'm warning you. I WANT THIS.
By the way, I haven't had much time to write today because a friend of mine needed cheering up, so we watched this movie, Zombieland? And damn, it's a new favourite of ours now. ;) So if you ever need some inspiration, I can highly recommend it. Disgusting zombies + awesome characters + fun storyline = WIN. :D And oh! There's Bill Murray. Dressed up as zombie. ;)
no subject
Date: 2009-11-15 09:24 pm (UTC)And omg I'm utterly flabbergasted that you like the story so much! My flabber is gasted to epic proportions! (I have no idea what I'm saying, I'm all typed out, but so much ♥ going your way.)
We totally need to do a novel exchange once we've finished, then you can smish Chip and I can coddle Sam and we can both go 0.0 at each other's mad torturing of the main characters :D