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Archive for July, 2011

Progress Report, in which I go toward the light

Despite my travels last week, I managed another 3K of new verbiage on From Earth I Have Arisen.  A little weird that I should be counting new words on a rewrite, but that’s just the way it goes.  Magic Meter say:

 

Despite all the cuts I had made earlier, the rewrite has now officially outstripped the first draft.  I kinda had the feeling that would happen.  And while I’m still not done, I’m really close.  Might even finish it this week.

In other good news, I seem to be finally emerging from the funk I’ve been in for the last month or so, thank goodness.  Now that I’m in a little better headspace, I feel qualified to self diagnose:  some professional setbacks that happened to hit during an ebb in my productivity combined for nice little double barrel of despair.  But now I’m going toward the light.

Oh, wait.  I’m not supposed to go into the light, am I?  Drat.  It all gets so confusing.

For your snippet this week, a quick peek at the climax:

A bright streak in his peripheral vision drew his attention–a flash of fire headed straight for them, accompanied with a recognizable whoosh, a sound he hadn’t heard in decades. A moment later, something detonated just overhead. Eaglet cried out and ducked. Black Eagle looked up.

The Night Wind‘s envelope was shredding, engulfed in flame.


That’s all you get for now.

No updates for Write Club.

Gotta boogie.

Progress Report, in which I fudge the numbers

Running late with this progress report, obviously.  Blame it on America’s birthday.

Difficult to gauge last week’s progress, as I embarked on the new final chapter of From Earth I Have Arisen, then scrapped what I had done and went in a different direction.  So if memory serves, I’m now on the third different ending I’ve tried for this thing, and the word count is . . . well, a little tricky to determine.  Officially, it’s something like 4400 words, but with all the back and forth, even that number is a bit fudged.  Anyway, Magic Meter looks like this now:

So it seems this ending is proving to be as much fun as I thought it would be–which is to say, not at all.  But I think I might finally be on the right track.

For your snippet, a bit of characterization that I hadn’t even realized until the moment I wrote it:

"Again, if you think I’m lying, you should shoot me."

Silence descended on the room. The only sound came from outside, the swelling rumble of the gathering crowd.

His bravado collapsed with shocking suddenness. A deep sadness swept Captain Black Eagle. That his beloved America had sunk so low. No wonder good people like Serena had given up. He’d been flying above it all for too long to see it, to feel it.

Perhaps even Robin had gotten it wrong. Perhaps delusions of grandeur had never entered into it. Maybe Captain Black Eagle himself was simply a kind of denial, a retreat from the unpleasant reality his world had become.

With one hand, he reached behind him and undid his mask, let it fall away from his face. Wayne Burleson faced his captors, his eyes stinging with repressed tears. Gendron reared back a little, as if Wayne had raised a hand to him. The one standing at the door gasped. The two standing behind him came around to see. Even the woman who had turned away looked.

Well, I thought it was cool, anyway.

No updates for Write Club.

Laterz.