May the Odds Be Ever In Your Favor

Ladies and gentlemen, it has begun. There is dramatic, inspiring music in the background, and I am on top of the world.

Camp NaNoWriMo is a go.

Emma, Mariesa, and I had a lovely online (thank God for computers) kick-off party, and I managed to churn out about 1400 words of Fool Me Once edits in a little under two hours.

Here's a sneak peak.

Slowly, we picked out way down the stairs. Halfway to what I assumed was the bottom, if the soft glow coming from what I hoped was a replacement lantern was anything to go by, the desk slid back into place, dropping us into complete darkness—save the aforementioned light.
"That's unfortunate." Edmund muttered.
To keep from tripping, falling, and breaking my neck, I eased my way down, a hand constantly against the wall. A residue I didn't care to think about clung to my hand, seeping up between my fingers. I stepped off the final step into a puddle of something else I didn't' care to think about.

So far, I'm loving this. Since my first draft, I added a new main character (*cuddles Edmund bc reasons*), a new point of view character (*cuddles Harvey bc awesome POV*), and tons of new scenes to flesh out this rather short story.

From here on, I'm going to try and keep up posting updates for Camp NaNo, but I haven't picked a day yet; I might just go with Wednesdays. *shrug*

Well, anyways, I should probably get back to writing. I'm hoping to get a little ahead so that come finals week (*shudder*), I'm not trying to write 1k a day and study.

Anyone else having problems with conflicting schedules? Got any awesome kick-off stories? Let me know in the comments below.

Good luck! See you next week!

DOOM and Camp NaNo

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's that time again.

The three month break is over, and it's time to write some stuff. 

I am excited. Like, über excited. I feel like the world is right again now that I am a writing fiend. 

So, DOOM actually started nine days ago, on March 1st, but I didn't find out about it until March 3rd, and I wasted another day deliberating whether or not I wanted to try and catch up with the rest of the bandwagon.

Basically (and thankfully), Doom is NaNoWriMo for busy people (which is now me, because I am a fancy, sophisticated college student). Yes, I will willingly be subjecting myself to the torment/challenge/joy of writing 50,000 words again. BUT, this time, my friends, I will have two months. 

That's right folks, I have a stunning two whole months (minus four days because I am late) to do the insane, the barely plausible…

Why?

Because why not?

NaNo was what helped me finish my novel. Why not give it another go and finish a second?

For DOOM my main focus will be finishing the second draft of Fool Me Once, because let's be honest here, it needs a lot of work. I'm hoping that Camp NaNo will polish off the remaining words in that, and I'll be able to start editing Stardust for the Workshop, cause as I may have forgotten to mention I AM GOING TO THE WORKSHOP.

At the end of April, I'll be tallying my total words written and I'm hoping to be somewhere in the 60 to 65k region. I don't even know what I'll be doing in May besides obsessively packing for the aforementioned workshop.

Is anyone else going to give Camp NaNo a go? I would love a word war or two sometime.

Really, though… This probably isn't going to seem like the greatest idea in a few weeks.

No One Mourns the Wicked

I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it was close to two months ago. It was December 21st
and disappointingly warm somewhere in Florida. It also happened to be my birthday. Most of the presents had been opened and I was coming out of it happier than I'd come in to it.

Then I was brought the 'big' present. In my family, we usually have our normal presents, like candy or socks, and then we have our 'big' present--the most expensive, and often most exciting, present.

For a 'big' present, it was kind of small. I opened it and was faced with a bookmark… But not any old bookmark. A Wicked bookmark. At first glance, it looked like a ticket to the show I'd been begging my parents to take me to (something which they'd already told me we couldn't afford). I remember looking at it and trying to keep the disappointment off my face. I was thinking 'well, I guess was thoughtful for them to make a me a bookmark… but seriously? This is kind of mean…' I was so focused on reigning in my emotions, I didn't even hear my until she touched my hand.

"Read it." She was saying, a silly smile on her face. So I took a second look at it. My brain wasn't connecting very well with my eyes. "It's real!" She said after a moment, and I just kind of looked at her.

I still didn't really believe it until Emma and I were standing outside Fox Theatre in Atlanta waiting for the doors to open.

It was cold. And I was in a dress. But it was the most fantastic thing I've experienced in a while, and I wish I could go again.

I love the music, but I already knew I liked that, and now that I know the context of the music, I love it even more. The costumes were great, and I've never wanted to be in a play more than at that moment. The singing and acting were phenomenal, and I had a blast. The second half of the play I spent curled up in my seat, tissues pressed against my nose. At the end, when all the cast came back out I jumped up and started screaming and clapping with everyone else.

It was wonderful. Basically, I couldn't be happier.

Thank you Emma and parents for taking me. I don't think I've ever had that much fun.

NaNoWriMo: a Summary

OH.

MY.

FREAKING. 

 GOD.

Guys. Guys I did it. On November 27th, 2014, I beat NaNo.

How is this even possible? Just a few days ago it was November 10th and I was crying because words.

Basically, this month has been a roller coaster. And I don't mean a kiddy roller coaster with like, one hill. This roller coaster had hundreds of ups and downs and spinning twists and upside down parts. Nutella, Emma, Mariesa, and my Mother are the only reasons I survived this month.

With as much as I complain and whine about writing, I don't think I've enjoyed a month like I have November of this year. Yes, it was hard. Yes, I wanted to give up. Yes, I probably could have had a normal November if I had. But guys. I wrote a novel. Like, a full-sized, more than 2 and a half chapters, novel.

I feel accomplished. Like mega accomplished. Accomplished like this girl.

Congratulations all you NaNo winners. And congratulations to all those who didn't make the 50,000. Why? You wrote something, even if it was only 5,000 words. You're 5,000 words farther than you would have been.

So. I'm off to collapse. Good night, everyone, and congratulations again!

NaNoWriMo Update #3

I can't believe it. NaNoWriMo is already half over. The hours spent in front of my laptop have flown by surprisingly fast.

I'm over half way done with my novel.

In seventeen freaking days.

Do you know how long it took me to get to the halfway point last time?

Six months.

And it took me six months to get a quarter of the words I've written for NaNo already.

It's strange, I keep flip flopping between feeling on top of the world and like I'm withering away. For example, Thursday of last week, I think, I flew through my words, getting them done rather quickly, but then today I've been doing a lot of staring at an empty screen.

I just can't get my brain to communicate with my fingers.

I'm having a really hard time writing.

Words Completed Today: 832 (but imma do more, i promise *cries*)
Words Completed Total: 29152
Favorite Snippet:

(Just a little explanation: this is not Pryor narrating, this is Livvy, his little sister who's been infected and is slowly being changed by the disease, both mentally and physically.)

We watch the wall. No. I watch the wall.
I thread my fingers through my hair, pulling until the stinging sensation in my scalp brings back a shred of sanity. The room is empty. White. You are alone, surrounded by nothing by unforgiving silence. You glanced towards the solid wall of shimmering exo-glass and realize that you are not you.
The girl's mind is cluttered by a thousand voices vying for control, for attention. I am not me. Something terrible is in my head, breaking her—breaking me—down piece by piece. I am loosing myself.
I look to the exo-glass, expecting to see Pryor's back pressed against it. She doesn't hear his voice. How long has it been since he came back?
A day? A year? A single minute?
I don't understand where he is. You crawl towards the wall, your fingernails, untrimmed and caked in dried blood-
Blood. She feels sick.
Why is there blood on my hands?
Then you remember. Your teeth sunk into her neck. Screaming. Hands scratching—hers and mine. Scarlet liquid flowing down your chin and onto the floor.
Tears wells up in my eyes, falling down her cheeks. You are scared. I'm so much worse than even a few days ago—or am I? I can't remember. You don't remember.
She curls in on herself and cries.
Where is Pryor?


There you have it, folks.

Until next time.

NaNoWriMo Update #2

Wow. So, um, hey guys. It's been a while guys. Sorry about that, by the way. I meant to do another blog post late last week, but it kind of got away from me (really tho, it was thursday one second then monday the next).

Anyways. NaNo update. Is that what I'm supposed to be doing? *is a little brain dead*

Sheesh. Where do I even begin? A lot can happen (and has) in 10,000 words. 

I guess we'll start with the bad news, which in this case, isn't really that bad. A couple of times last week, I had a mini panic attack. Why, do you ask? Because I sort of, more or less, kind of ran out of plot.

I am not a plotter. I am a pantser. I find I work best when I have no real plan. Except, working with my daily 2000 word quota, I'm chewing through my ideas almost faster (and in some cases faster, which caused my previously mentioned panic attacks) than I can make them up.

Thankfully, one quote, from a very wise person whose name I cannot for the life of me recall, saved my life (and plot (and dignity)). He/She/It said: 

"Don't try and figure what should happen, but what should go wrong."

And don't quote me on that, because that could be a total paraphrasing too. XD

Onto the good news, friends. I have four words for you: Jeremiah Lynch and Grae. Seriously, these guys are closely rivaling Emmeth for the coveted position of my favorite character. Also, I'm actually kind of on schedule *points to progress bar to your left*. LOOK.

Anyways. Onto what you all really care about.

First. A gif.

This has pretty much been me as of late. I'm just like get the words down. Get them down. XD

My stats: 

Completed words today: 2075

Total word count: 17504

Favorite snippet(s): 
“Psh. As if.” She said, jogging in front then turning around to walk backwards, wagging her finger at me. “I'm not passing up an opportunity to save the world. Besides, what if you need me?”
“I'm not going to need you.”
“Do you know how to hot-wire a car?”
I shot her an irriated look. “No.”
“Well, me either, but I'm sure I could figure it out.” She said, chuckling. She found herself far too amusing. “But really, I have this really good recipe for soup and all you need is-” She counted on her fingers as she listed the ingredients “Chicken stock, salt, pepper, and your favorite flavor of cardboard.”
“How are we going to get any of that in Antarctica?”
“That's your job to figure out, Pryor. You need to pitch in somehow, since I'll be the one doing the hot-wiring and cooking.”
“You're incredibly obnoxious.”
“I know.” She seemed very proud of that fact.

-like, 8000 or so words later-

He took the gauze from Rina and began to re-wrap Conrad's leg, tying it off in a tight knot. “You can't cure Ignis Necrosis.” He said flatly. “Trust me, I've tried.”
“Pryor Mason is not who you think he is, Jeremiah Lynch.” Guardian flew up in front of me, next to Lynch's shoulder. “He is the Harbinger.”
Lynch went rigid. His eyes narrowed and he stood. “That... That isn't possible.” He bit out. “The Harbinger died. Or have you forgotten that too, Cloud Walker?”
“You know as well as I do that he was but an imposter.”
“He was my son, you pretentious b*****.” Lynch growled. He turned towards Guardian. “There is no Harbinger. There is no cure. Do you hear me, Cloud Walker? There. Is. No. Cure. Get the h*** out of my camp, before I shoot you myself.”

(I apologize for Lynch, he's kind of a potty mouth… But I luffs him anyways.)

Until next time.

NaNoWriMo So Far...

Day three of NaNoWriMo is almost over.

It's only been three days guys and I've already lost control of my life.

I've been sitting back in my room for like, the past four hours trying to do 2000 words.

I. Am. Dying.

But I love it.

I've never written this much so quickly.

NaNo and I have a love/hate relationship.

Anwayssssss. My stats for this week:

Completed words today: 2065
Total word count: 6214
Favorite snippet:  “Pryor Mason,” He whispered. “We are not alone.”
My stomach plummeted, and I cursed myself. Carlton and Ms. Bently should still be here. Why weren't the lights on?
“Carlton?” I whispered, as loud as I dared. Fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins—all I could hear was my pounding heart. If the power was out... Or, if there had been some sort of malfunction…
Exo-glass was reinforced with electricity.
Almost in answer, a ear piercing shriek ripped through the chilled air. Panic rippled through my muscles, freezing them in place. My eyes darted to the left.

I'm going to bed now. 

K. Bye.

*heavy sigh*

Does anyone have the marvelous, beautiful, natural ability to sing whatever you want and sound amazing while doing it? If you do, I envy you. I like to say that when I sing, on a good day, I sound like a dying walrus (which I honestly don't think is an exaggeration). But, I still love to sing, just not in front of people.

I listen to a lot of music while I write and work on school work. Since I live in a house crammed full of people, I don't have much privacy, even behind a closed door. Often, I find myself overwhelmed by the intense desire to belt out the lyrics to songs like 'No Good Deed' and 'Defying Gravity' and 'As Long As You're Mine' and basically every other Wicked song ever.

[BY THE WAYS GUYS, WICKED IS TOURING AGAIN AND THERE'S A SHOW ONLY A FEW HOURS AWAY FROM WHERE I LIVE.]

Anywhoooo, since I have no ability to sing and can't hold a tune to save my life, I compensate by mouthing the words in a flashy, and generally dramatic manner. I find my inner super star is best suppressed by screwing my face up in ugly expressions and flipping my hair around like a mad woman.

I just bought some new headphones. They're fantastic. Like, noise canceling and everything. Unfortunately, they cancel a little too much voice.

Guys. My mom just walked in. 

I have never been this embarrassed.