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April 28-30

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Archive for June, 2014

Progress Report, in which I display bad form

Another 2K on the Apocalypse Pictures Presents rewrite brings Magic Meter to here:

That closes out chapter 19, and brings me to my last major hurdle—chapter 20, which pretty much has to be redone from scratch.  I spent some time this weekend figuring out the blocking.

Shut up.  I was working.

But damn, I am so ready to be done with this thing.  It’s difficult to express in words.  And for a writer, that’s bad form.

We wouldn’t want that, would we?  No, indeed.  So here are some words, AKA your snippet:

She looked around.  Everyone was in position—patients and caregivers all.  Fear rose in her, threatened to paralyze her.  Years of drilling under her father had taught how to disengage her emotions prior to an engagement.  But she was unarmed this time, and she would need her emotions to make this work.  So instead of trying to block it, she let the fear course through her, let it accelerate her heart rate, let it close her throat to a pinhole.

Santiago had given her good lines.  Florence had done her ghoulish best.  Pastor Cam had given them a perfect location.  The rest of the team all knew what they had to do.  It could work, as long as they executed.  They would only get one take at this, but they were all used to that.

The others were looking at her.  She cleared her throat.  “They’re here.  Be ready.”

Climax is dead ahead.  Forward!

Current Music: "On the Turning Away"--Pink Floyd

Progress Report, in which I ask the question but fear the answer

I was traveling last week, usually a recipe for productivity disaster.  But as this trip was to a writing retreat, it would perhaps stand to reason that I managed some actual, you know, writing.  Huh.  Who knew?

Magic Meter tells the tale:

Chapter 18 of Apocalypse Pictures Presents is done, and I’m halfway through chapter 19, which should be relatively low maintenance.  After that, only two more chapters to go.  Could it be that I’ll actually finish this thing?  Is there hope?

You know, on second thought, don’t answer that.

Your snippet:

Another burst of gunfire rang out, much closer this time.  Right outside, in fact.  She could feel the impacts in her feet.  They were shooting at the building, she realized.  The lights outside had done their job.

On impulse, she walked toward a door that led to the main entrance.  From her position on her cot, Florence said, “What are you doing?”

“Improvising.”

Write Club Update:  A tier one bounce from Buzzy Mag.  Response time, 66 days.

Onward.

Current Music: "Take It out on Me"--Bullet for My Valentine