NaNoWriMo

#NaNoWriMo – Practice makes Perfect

Here’s my final #NaNoWriMo update for the month and I wish to betsy it was full of triumphant trumpets and confetti spewing from the slavering mouths of literary demons, but alas, that will have to be post-poned for a little while.

Current word count is still lingering below the 10,000 word count (I’m so close to that though!!)

That being said, I don’t actually feel lik#NaNoWriMo I wish to betsy it was full of triumphant trumpets and confetti spewing from the slavering mouths of literary demons, but alas, that will have to be post-poned for a little while.e this was a failure. Just the exact kick in the bum I needed to get the process going.

I needed to practice writing and get more familiar with my own process. NaNoWriMo gave me the excuse to get to it.

An besides, my wager with my sister still stands. we’re going to swap our first drafts with each other on January 1st and continue to work our way through through the novel writing process.

My main issue has been editing.

I know, I know, you’re not supposed to go back and edit during this, but when I didn’t? I lost track of the thread of the story and had to go back to unravel that big, terrible, messy, plot-beastie.

So I did.

I’ve learned a lot about my process when it comes to my fiction writing as well. I need to approach the first draft in at least 3 stages:

  1. Tell myself the story out loud, and record the telling
  2. Transcribe my story-telling and add pages of new details and conversations based on the inital bullet-points
  3. Go back to the beginning and work it through again

As long as I continue to plug on ahead in this way, and set aside more time devoted to the process, I will have my book in the bag.

I’m nothing, if not ruthlessly determined when it comes to my projects.

So, with that little update done, onwards to the next chunk of my story.

Here are the links to the previous sections, in case you missed them:

Chapter 1 ∇ Chapter 2

Transformation – Chapter 3

Rose awakens in a  room, wrapped up tightly in a thin blanket on a tiny straw bed. The last dregs of a fire gasp from the fireplace, doing nothing to dull the sharp chill in the room.
Where am I? Did I dream it? She wonders, pushing herself up from the bed with one arm.
She looks down and pulls her other arm out from the tangle of blanket and studies it, seeing a patchwork of healing scabs and pink scars.
Guess not.

She flexes her fingers experimentaly. Nothing seems broken… How is that possible?

Weakly, she works her legs out and places her feet on the rough wooden floor. With considerable effort she pushes herself up onto her feet and limps to a chipped and yellowed wash basin next to the bed.

She splashes some water on her face, gingerly running her fingers over the map of cuts and  scrapes decorating one side of her face. Everything feels so different.

She sits down heavily in a chair and lifts her grey nightgown up to study her body. Her legs too were all scraped up, but intact.

Rose looks up as a her door creaks open, the rotund backside of an old woman enters first, pushing the door open.

The woman turns around sharply, her tray of water and porridge rattling dangerously.

“About damn time child!” she coughs out at her, Setting the tray down on a small table in front of the fire. “Spending all bloody week in bed, moanin’ and groanin’ like some spectacular lout.” She stands, hands on hips, examining Rose through bleary eyes, set in an ancient face framed by lanck strands of grey hair.
Rose simply gapes at her, utterly shocked to be spoken to in such a way.
“Ach!” The woman flips her hands at Rose in exasperation, “bloody useless trying to talk to the vapid creature.” She points to the tray, “Eat.” Then points to a rack in the corner of the room,”then dress for the service. The master is expecting us to be present.”
The woman, turns to the door as Rose manages to gasp out, “but-“
The old woman whirls on her, “do not back talk to me you foolish girl. I had to deal with the entire household on my own while you lounged around in bed. You’ve played sick long enough. Do as I say and be down in the kitchen in the next 10 minutes or I swear to the a Blessed One I will give you a reason to stay abed for an entire month.” And with that, she huffed out of the room, firmly closing the door behind her.
Rose simply stares at the closed door, utterly dumbfounded. So… I almost die and some grumpy servant woman wants to finish the job for… Not doing housework? What…where? “Am I still dreaming?”
Rose looks around the cramped room.

A narrow window breathes cold air through cracked glass, leaking the tired grey of pre-dawn light into the room.

There’s not much to the room. The straw bed with worn blanket she’s sitting on, the rack with a jumble of clothing in one corner, the wooden chair and small table in front of a matchbook’s worth of a fireplace in the other, and the wash basin with a few fastidiously placed toiletries and a brush next to her.
She’s never seen any of this before in her life. Her wandering gaze returns to the window and she jumps back when she sees the Raven sitting stoically on the ledge of the now open window.
“Best do as that shrieking banshee says. I wouldn’t want to get any further on her bad side.” He ruffles his feathers, eyeing her and mutters, “Not my best work… Hmph. Get ready and follow where they’ll lead you. I will find you again when we can speak more openly without fear of being overheard.” He disappears into the the grey dawn with a flick of his wings.
“Wait!” Rose grasps the edge of the window and peers out into the world.
She is in the top floor of some massive house over looking a dreary town of damp depressed houses. There isn’t much moving outside yet, only one lean horse dragging along a cart and guided by a bent figure.
The cart creaks through the mud of the road with the tell tale black sheet covering it’s cargo, only the dead are transported so.
Rose leans back in the window.  I am dreaming. Or I have gone entirely mad. Those are the only explanations. So I might as well do as these mad things demand.
 
She turns to the pile of drab woolen clothing and proceeds to dress.
‡——–‡
Just a short chunk today since, unfortunatley, the in-between is all mangled and silly until Rose ends up in the forest once more and discovers more about the mysteries surrounding her current exisitence.
I’ll share more excerpts as I continue though ❤
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