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.
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.
