writing in general nanowrimo 2011, everybody
SORRY TO HAVE KEPT YOU WAITING. :|
neon death parade
A loser dilettante aiming to elevate her creator-to-curator ratio by drawing, writing and periodically purging reblogged or unrelated posts.
My name is Rikki, and you are welcome to holla at cha girl via Twitter or e-mail if you so desire.
Not always safe for work.
CC BY-NC unless otherwise indicated.
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2011-Dec-15
7 notes
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2011-Oct-19
NotesHaha, I feel like crap! Hope this is just allergies gone haywire rather than an actual cold.
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2011-Oct-13
9 notesWELP. The NaNoWriMo Book In You journal and a small set of YWP pencils arrived today, so I’m gonna blab about stuff like last year.
- Covers are very rigid! Even more so than last year. I was shocked.
- Ruling has been reduced to 6mm!
- Fountain pen users beware: It’s far less friendly than expected, and actually a big downgrade from last year. Show-through that makes the back of the page unusable, plenty of blood dots, and significant feathering. (Ever seen the ink run off in little hairline strands away from the letters? Yeah, this notebook does that.) Glad I hadn’t planned on using my pens in it.
- Paper’s very smooth, with rounded edges. Feels nice. Obviously it’s quite off-white this year, but to be more precise the color is a little lighter and yellower than a Moleskine notebook.
- The new feature not mentioned in the product blurb: a page in the front where you can write your name and address. Nice touch.
- The manufacturer’s name is impressed into the back of the notebook—”Castelli”. This is the exact notebook the OLL had customized. Just some extra information for funsies ❤
The pencils are…standard scholastic-grade pencils. I should have known better than to expect something more upscale, since they were made for the Young Writer’s Program. And I ain’t mad that they’re not Blackwings or Hi-Unis or Mono 100s or whatever…but it’s unfortunate that they’re not on par with my Ippos. I mean, the lead broke twice when I first started sharpening one.
…But hey, there’s a novel inside! I’ll never buy them again, but it’ll be fun to see how many I can go through before December.
Overall I’m pleased. Now to figure out how to outline…
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2011-Oct-11
9 notes
Technically this isn’t all I’ve done in the past few days, but it’s pretty close!
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2010-Dec-01
1 note
Defeat, snatched from the jaws of victory.
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2010-Nov-30
0 notes45608 / 48333 — a reasonable question
Thus John ceded the floor. But rather than speak out, Astrid dropped her head into her left hand, rubbing her temples as if they ached.
“You are correct. Much as that is…painful, to acknowledge. I have no authority here. Whatsoever.” Save for that which I assert by force.
“Well, beg pardon, but given ya say you were ‘sealed up’?” He made air quotes around the key phrase. “Sounds like ya didn’t have too much authority left where ya came from, either.”
Another moment of silence.
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2010-Nov-24
0 notes33581 / 38334 — john is the best dad
John looked up from his notes, over his glasses. “What’s the status?”
His fiancée spoke for him, gently patting his forearm. “He’ll be fine with a lot of rest in a few weeks. No thinking too hard or he’ll get headaches. But he should call the doctor—” Here she paused, to give Johnny a stern glare. “—if he starts seeing double again.”
“‘No thinkin’ too hard’.” John repeated, his voice steeped in derision. “This rockhead never thinks hard enough. Any less goin’ on up there and he’ll be a danged vegetable.”
A weak smile pulled at Johnny’s mouth. “…Love you too, Dad.”
“Uh-huh. You just quit gettin’ hit in the head.” He hunkered back down over his work, the smile lines around his mouth and eyes deepening.
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2010-Nov-22
Notestl;dr: haters to the left
Dreck can be penned, submitted, accepted and published at any time of the year.
I am hardly a member of The Cult of Nice. My issue is that every piece of criticism I’ve read of NaNoWriMo over the years falls apart under even the most cursory examination.
…I won’t bother detailing that for two reasons:
- Other people far more eloquent than I have already done so. Ad nauseam.
- My entire point is that it is not worth acknowledging the detractors any more. (PROTIP: It hasn’t ever been worth it.)
Stop clicking on their articles. Stop responding to them. Stop caring.
They are, in many cases, getting paid to aggravate you. Even if they aren’t earning money right then and there—the more you fuss, the more visibility they get. And not only have they failed to make any ironclad arguments over the past decade, but their objections have become increasingly histrionic—bordering on the nonsensical. (There are more than enough novels out there and readers are an endangered species? Really?)
You have better things to do than perpetuate that kind of fallacious bullshit.
You could be writing.
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07:04:00
1 note30961 / 35000 — too stupid to cope
Galen opened his eyes to find John stooped over him. “Think you can walk?”
The young man nodded, then managed a wan smile. “…With all due respect, Mr. Cook, how else am I gonna get out of here?”
“Could always carry you,” he replied, without a hint of facetiousness. “Cane goes in the right hand, right?” When he nodded, John dropped to one knee next to him, patting his left shoulder. “Left arm, up here.” Galen reached up and John grasped his wrist, standing up and lifting them both from the ground. The man’s strength surprised him so much that he almost forgot to support himself.
John turned dark eyes on him. “You still okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, adjusting his grip on the back of John’s shirt a little. He wasn’t quite his son’s height, but close enough for Galen’s arm not to reach around completely and still keep both his feet fully on the ground. Even though his left leg was longer. “I just…didn’t expect that to work so well.”
“The barest hint of a smile showed on his face. “Come on, I ain’t that old yet. Jesus.”
“I-I didn’t mean it like that!” he stammered through the foot in his mouth.
“Young lady!” he called, and Astrid raised her head. She’d gone back to looking through the limestone farther away. “If you could please come with me!” John turned to his small hairy burden, lowering his voice. “She got a name?”
“It’s Astrid. She says she’s…a princess,” he added, after hesitating.
John pursed his lips and blew out air in a lazy whistle. “…That’s almost a relief. If she’d been an amnesiac, this woulda been too stupid to cope with.”
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2010-Nov-21
1 notenanolyzer
this thing. it saves asses during nanowrimo.
Awesome. I was disappointed when the “negative” information was completely removed from the official stats page. This site provides a far more complete look at nanowrimo progress—or lack of progress, in my case. What a great find.
Source: pantoupantou
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00:26:51
Notes…I just realized that we’re down to single digits here.
…The whole “winning NaNoWriMo” thing might happen (…it’s getting a little harder to see, still being sub-30k and all) but damned if I’m gonna have anything even close to a full novel out of it. This month has flown.
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2010-Nov-20
0 notes27809 / 33334 — tom the realist
Someone whistled, high and piercing, drawing his attention. Behind him were three men. One stout with a close buzz cut, toting a small white box emblazoned with a red cross. Bringing up the rear was a redhead in plaid, with a particularly sour frown. Their vanguard—tow-headed, young, and extraordinarily ruddy—still held his hands near his mouth, pinkies partially raised.
“Cavalry’s here!” he announced, grinning.
The second one trudged in from behind him. “Medic’s here, more like,” he said, grumpily.
He gently nudged Galen out of the way with a ‘hello’ and an ‘excuse me’, then knelt and popped the lid off the box. Digging out a rather large dressing, he tore it open with his teeth and pressed it hastily against Johnny’s head. “Move your hand, Carmichael. Can’t see your brains, so at least that’s good.”
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2010-Nov-18
0 notes25314 / 30000 — sometimes I wonder if my sense of humor is being conveyed properly
He’d heard the shriek and watched Johnny chase after it, running up and over the rubble fast enough to make him feel a pang of jealousy and self-loathing. After a short debate between his heart, mind and bum leg, Galen decided to wait and see. In a few minutes the Effacer would stomp back over the hill and let him know what was going on. If that didn’t happen, maybe then it’d be a good idea to go investigate.
Confirming his assumption, Johnny did return shortly after—his body arcing cleanly through the air and landing atop the fallen trees with a sickening thump. He bounced once off the bare trunk of a red oak, then lay still on the ground. Limp as a ragdoll.
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2010-Nov-16
0 notes23807 / 25000 — marbleface weirds out normal people, my writing is terribad, news at 11
“Zachary.” Johnny clapped his hands once, to draw the Null’s attention. “Whatever’s in there. It’s not movin’ around or anything, is it?”
“No.” Those sunken eyes widened a little too large, and Galen felt goosebumps prickle on his arms and the back of his neck despite the heat. Hawthorn had told him the thing wouldn’t hurt him, but this was the longest time he’d been in close quarters with it. All those short glimpses hadn’t prepared him for a longer journey deep into uncanny valley.
“…I’ll make sure it d-doesn’t,” Zachary hissed.
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2010-Nov-15
0 notes22073 / 23334 — well this will certainly end well
Galen frowned. “I didn’t realize Hawthorn had any other obligations tonight. Normally she has the courtesy to call or tel—” An epiphany; he’d seen neither hide nor hair of her all day long. “…She didn’t go to school today, did she?”
Johnny raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, of course she went. You must have just missed her.”
“Don’t lie to me, John.” For such a little guy, he could sound surprisingly authoritative.
“Alright, alright…” He shrugged. “She was there for at least part of the morning. Pretty sure she caught the bus. Dad must have picked her up early in the day when they came across a big site. I dunno when.” Johnny glanced at his passenger for a reaction, wondering if he’d be accused of lying again. “We kinda needed everyone we could get out here today.”
“…The situation is that bad, and you’re taking me toward it?” Galen recoiled, shrinking against the door. “On second thought, maybe I was better off walking on the side of the road…”
A wicked grin spread across Johnny’s face. “Too late now, ‘less you wanna roll out at fifty miles an hour. Better do it now, ‘cause I’ll hit seventy or eighty on the interstate.”
