Winter Storm Vulcan is blowing outside, and, perhaps illogically, making me smile. Yes, I love the name.
I’m getting a better idea of how long this first revision pass will take. I think I’ll need about 3 months, in total, to complete the sixty scenes. Thus far, new scenes are taking about 5-6 days, and existing scenes 2-3 days.
So, it’ll be a while, as I chisel and carve and excavate and reconstruct – and I’m very excited to see how it all turns out!
Here’s the cool part:
You can help!
Every comment and insight has the potential to allow me to see this story as a reader, and not a writer. So, when you’re done reading, please take a minute to let me know what worked or didn’t, for you. I’ll be doing at least three revision passes, and possibly more, so your opinions could lead to something wonderful…but only if you share them!
I won’t be moving through the novel in a linear fashion, for this pass, so the WIPpets will be bouncing around.
And now, on to the WIPpeting!
Today is March 12, 2014.
- Today’s math is simple: There isn’t any! Why, you ask? Well, as my kids are fond of saying lately, “Because reasons.” Maybe I’m a little loopy from this Vulcan storm! =)
- Today’s WIPpet is 24 sentences. I
- I won’t be offended if you want to say I took the date and multiplied by 2; or some other reason. Could be I just wanted to share these!
Today’s WIPpet is told from Nockatee’s POV – just after she is “born” as a result of Tisira’s fall and resulting amnesia. She’s just awoken, naked beneath a tree, seriously wounded and helpless – and then someone finds her.
But even that thought brought the fangs of pain, and I cried out, again, the one word I had as mine. “Father!”
“I am not thy father; but I will help thee, if I may.”
I tried to follow the voice, untangle the words. At the same time, I scrabbled away; an agonized rolling more than a flight, but I could manage no more; all I could do was to whimper, “Father?”
“I know not who thy father is, nor where to find him. But I will take thee to my cottage, where thee may heal, and, mayhap, we can find him together.”
Words that meant nothing. A voice that drew me, even while instinct said I must escape. I could not trust. I must have help. I burned, and froze, in the same instant.
My eyes jumped where they willed, and I could stop them not. My mind, too, leapt, as though at some prey I could not know. The boy came closer, and I scrabbled off a little more, the pain bringing a cry – “These are the wrong stars!”
The boy was reaching to me. A snarl came to my lips, broke loose. I couldn’t see clearly, but I could feel him. Was he danger, or safety?
“Be at ease. I will not harm thee.”
But could I believe, or trust? Ought I?
A wave of feverheat seared me; the fangs crushed and tore, and I was helpless to do anything but shake and snarl as the boy knelt and touched my face…
Will the girl remember who and what she is? Is this boy to be trusted? Can she recover?
If you’ve been with us a while, you know some of these answers – but do any of us know them all?
Stop by next week…I can’t promise answers, but I can promise more questions! =)
For this week, I’ll leave you with an oldie that reminds me of Nockatee. And this totally random tibit: my older brother bears a truly eerie resemblance to Mick Jagger!