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nanonerd, day 1

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November 1, 2006 | 11:35pm
Mood: three colors
Music: Stereolab - Whisper Pitch

Today's word count: 2511
Total word count: 2511
Should be at: 1667
Variance: +844

My usual November disclaimer, for those of you who weren't with me last year: I spend November participating in National Novel Writing Month. I've participated & won every year since 2003. Yadayada. If you don't want to read any of my writing nonsense, I suggest that you remove me from your friends list ASAP. I won't take offense.

Today was a long, stressful day. I was pretty much on the move straight from 7:30am-7:45pm. A test, a quiz, tutoring, a group project, catching up on French... it all added up. I wasn't able to write a word until 8:30pm. But boy oh boy, I was able to come up with some very good words. (I also ended up changing the sex of two of the MCs, which was kind of startling.)

Today the MC met a siren and a Diarmuid-the-boar. Tomorrow my MC will meet Baba Yaga and Fionn Mac Cumhaill. Very exciting. Baba'll be wearing a neon pink and turquoise track suit & will have teeth sharpened to points. Not to mention her house! I can't wait to write her up. :)

Instead of responding, she abruptly pulled her hand away. “What are you doing?” George asked with audible disappointment in his voice. “I really liked holding hands with you.”

Again, she refrained from responding. She took a step forward, followed by another, and another. And then, in seemingly a blink of an eye she was twenty feet ahead, back against a tree. “Come on, George!” she called out playfully, with a beautiful smile lighting up her face. “George, come on! I bet you can’t catch me!” She gave a tinkling laugh… and then she began to run.

George mindlessly chased after her. She was always just another few trees ahead of him, or hurdling over a log or around a bush. She stopped periodically to taunt him, but the boy kept on racing after her. “Why are you so slow, George?” Lena shrilly shrieked, teeth bared and glinting in the distance. “Hurry up, hurry up, you don’t want to be late!”

Late for what? George remembered thinking, but the thought slipped out of his mind almost as soon as it entered: he was running as fast as he could, chasing after the girl like it was the only thing he could possibly do, like his life depended on that run. The trees whipped past, branches slapped his face and arms and legs, but he ignored them.

George began to realize that no matter how fast he ran, no matter how hard he tried, the distance between the two of them was growing larger and larger. “Slow down!” he yelled out. Sweat was pouring down his face, his body was aching, and he was having trouble breathing. “Lena, please, slow down!”

She ignored him. She ran, and ran, and before long she was out of sight; and then all he could hear was her screeching laughter, grating down his spine. Soon he couldn’t even hear that, and he slowed down and tried to catch his breath.

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Comments {6}

(no subject)

from: owleyes3
date: November 3, 2006 07:16pm (UTC)

wow, i loved the excerpt. what is your novel about?

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(no subject)

from: aodh
date: November 3, 2006 10:58pm (UTC)


It's a big mish-mash of every halfway interesting myth/legend/piece of folklore that I can find. Here's a synopsis:

"Baba Yaga lost her horsemen, Fionn mac Cumhaill needs to find some wisdom, and a college student reluctantly becomes a hero."

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(no subject)

from: anonymous
date: November 4, 2006 05:14am (UTC)

Sounds very interesting. I know this sounds very forward, but are you planning on having it published?? that would be cool....

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(no subject)

from: aodh
date: November 4, 2006 04:46pm (UTC)

Hee, thanks :)

I'd love to have it published, but I kinda have to finish writing it first! We'll see what happens when the time comes :P

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