NaNoWriMo - Day One
Aaaaaaannnnnnnnd we’re off.
November 1st brought about a little writing and a lot of alcohol (within reason… it’s not like I was slurring my speech or falling off of my chair). Call it nerves or fear, I just kept topping my drink. I can see how writers lean toward alcoholism… the two just seem to walk hand in hand (presumably to keep each other from falling over).
I got just over a thousand words (1073 to be exact) written last night. It’s important to note that with my wife out of town on business, I’m doing more around the house and with the kids which takes up a lot of my time in the evenings. Also, my youngest daughter had her semi-final flag football game last night (they lost), so we didn’t get home till later.
I also don’t want NaNoWriMo to take away too much time from my family, so I played a game of cards with my youngest before he went to bed and watched part of a movie with my eldest daughter.
Taking that all into consideration, I’m happy with my thousand words.
I wasted some time correcting as I was writing. I just can’t help myself though. I must correct my grammar and spelling (and tense)… within reason. I know there are still errors in the work, but I’m trying to find a happy medium between quality and speed.
Sarah and I were IM’ing back and forth last night as I was writing, and she tried to stop me from correcting, but as I informed her, it’s a sickness (also a habit, seeing as I’ve consistently done it this way over many years).
Here is a blurb from the beginning of the novel… and remember that it is a fantasy piece, and as such is supposed to be larger than life.
Born of a Dragon
What some people fail to realize is that sorcery, much like the common cold, is a sickness. The most notable difference however is that the common cold does not eventually lead to complete madness.
Sorcery does.
There is but one cure.
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Over the course of three days, several strands of hair have come loose and have blown softly with the breeze. This has worried him, though not so much that he would move to correct these strands.
He has not moved in three days… not a single muscle. Insects have crawled upon his stone like skin, unable to penetrate its smooth scales. Even as ants marched upon his eyeball, did he not blink.
He could not move, lest this wizard’s dragon see him.
Three days ago, he’d climbed this sturdy tree with thick foliage. He’d found the perfect branch upon which to crouch. He’d tied his long, black hair back tightly. He knew that if the wizard walked slowly upon his path, it may be several days before they came within range, and he knew that various creatures would pull at his hair over the course of those long days waiting, however this was one of the few chances he had to take. He knew that the wizard’s dragon could see for a great man footpaths, as could he, and so he knew he would have to remain perfectly motionless so that the dragon did not see him… till it was too late.
He’d taken his bone bow from his shoulder and verified the tightness of the sinew. He then drew an arrow from the quiver which rested squarely between his wings, and with the kind of slow deliberation that implies there are no second chances, he rested the arrow’s notch into the sinew. He laid it gently onto his finger, resting the wood upon the bow’s bone surface, and as he crouched into the position which he would hold for several days, he pulled on the sinew and drew the arrow till his fingers paused a hair’s space beside his right eye.
Then he’d inhaled deeply, and stopped breathing.
I’m having fun with this novel so far. My eldest daughter read my work yesterday and loved it. That means a lot to me.
So that’s it for day one… yesterday. Here’s hoping I can pound out five or more pages tonight.
