Crapload

I just noticed that I haven't posted anything in the past two weeks. Truth is, I've written about 80% of Game in Play; that much has been written since November 2012, but it's a load of crap, so I have to feed it through Will who reads it, edits it heavily, and gives it back to me to fix up.  He's had the John chapter for a week now, which makes me wonder if the chapter was even readable.  

I also have, excitingly, another part of Birthday Present written.  Two parts, actually.  Just finished the third chapter.  I'm not sure if the title is the most appropriate name for it anymore, but I've already made the image, so I'm not renaming it until I have to.  

Furthermore, I'm having fun reworking the second chapter of Vert Glace so that it's more show than tell.  It's challenging to create events that best set up the main character's background.

Will is going to need a mountain of prunes to get through everything. 

Love hurts

B-dog has actually read the whole of Vert Glace now.  He has given me some pretty good critique about the story that I will incorporate into the heavy editing I intend to do.  He pulls no punches, which is  painful in a good sort of way - kinda like waking up the next day after a really good work out.  Thanks, oh surly, grumpy, cackling, golden hearted housemate of mine.

I'm starting to edit, but I'm talking my time still because I want to make sure each chapter is as best as it can be.  Therefore, when I'm not 100% focused, I just do other writing.  Writing about Sasha Suter really helps me flesh out the world.  I find that I'm incorporating elements of that again into Vert Glace and Lordchaser.  Also, going back to the beginning after what must be now 200k words + notes in the same world makes the world building I can do so much better.  The process is invaluable to me.  this time around is the farthest I've gone in terms of writing and editing.  And I don't feel sick of the story at all yet!  That has to be a sign.  I've never felt more like an amateur.

I've been compulsively checking one person's fictionpress page because they mentioned something about possibly posting a new story this week.  Nothing yet, but I'm hopeful.

Welcome to the 21st Century

My friend went on a mandatory field trip out in the sticks today.  Her quote of the day, which she heard as she was getting onto the bus:

"Dad, it's the 21st Century.  I can listen to my iPod and do the herding at the same time."

Classic.

Friendly Competition 4

I did it again with the Boston Baked Beans.  I really want some now.

So there's a list of entries up for the contest.  There's still a chance for another entry to sneak in at the end there...  I've read all of the ones posted and I am sweating.  Competition is fierce, my friends.  I am honoured to be in the presence of such high caliber entries.

One that stands out for me is War and her Quill by Un-Ended Tales Unravel for the way it involves concepts as characters.  Very meta.  Very clever.

I feel very excited about this month's competition.  Competition inspires innovation.  Regardless of what happens this month, looks like I'll have to step up to my A++ game next time I enter.

Friendly Competition 3

I went to type in blogger, and ended up on a page about Boston Baked Beans.  Thanks, Solemn.

I had a particularly brutal evening at work yesterday, so I'm limping along the line for Friday.  I never would have guessed this in high school, but since working alongside physiotherapists, I've learnt that my headaches are actually caused by the muscles in my shoulders and neck becoming really, really tense.  I try and get some exercises in between clients. So awkward when my colleagues walk in on me doing the arching cat.

Today's the day for September Submissions to the Labyrinth Writing Contest.  I haven't accidentally stumbled across anyone's entries as of yet, but I know TanteLiz has an entry called Professionals.  So, right now I'm a bit like a horse with blinkers on, but once Fylofox posts the entrants, I'll be more of  a meerkat on the African plains.

I realized just now that the states is half a day behind here, so I suppose I'll have to wait to Friday to check out the competition.

I'm still finding romance quite a challenging genre, even when I'm relying heavily on all of the cliche stereotypes ("Archetypes!" wails Chris D'Amico, "they're archetypes!").

shielded from real writing progress

I watched the first episode of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. today and it wasn't bad.  I was waiting for Joss Whedon to bring in a bit character from another of his shows, and he didn't disappoint.  Hello, Shepard Book.

In the writing sphere, I think I just got chided on the Labyrinth forum by Aurelia Knight. Ouch.

In the not so ouchie part of writing, I've been working on the extension to Sasha's story.  At almost 9000 words, I'm beginning to now see a romance light at the end of the I-want-to-focus-on-kickassery tunnel.  It's a very different story to what I'm use to writing, but I suppose that's the point of the exercise. I'm determined to succeed in this.  It's another side project that's taking me from Lordchaser, but I really can't work on that enough at the moment anyway to do it justice.  I need long blocks of time (days long) to really get a good writing groove going.  If I do it in short bursts, then the story tends to be a bit choppy.  I'm hoping that after I move for my new job, I'll have more time for writing.  Ha.  I've heard all that before.  Welcome to the happy land of excuses.

Sasha vs Orion

Still, Orion’s cool never wavered, even when Sasha landed a hard blow on his shoulder.  The fighting was fierce and the staffs moved at blurring speeds.  The only sounds in the room were the clacks of the staffs coming together and the thud of feet against the wooden floor as they fought for ground.  For Sasha, it was a constant uphill battle.  No matter how much she pressed, Orion danced circles of defiance around her, refusing to be cornered.  Even as sweat flew off him as their bodies clashed together, there was no sign of fatigue, no indication of whether the young man was reaching his limit.  Had Sasha not fought him before, she would have believed him invincible by now.