Pico Day 22

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Here's today's post for your snippets, comments, thoughts.

Comments

[espresso-addict.livejournal.com]

About 500 words yesterday. I didn't manage to sleep well, sadly, and was utterly exhausted to the point of not being sure whether the direction I was going was right, so I got an early night.

I'm thinking of dividing this long tricky scene into two chapters just to make it easier to get my head around. It worked quite well last time, and might actually save words overall, as I find it's easier to put in blocks of summary at the opening of a chapter.

[el-staplador.livejournal.com]

An early night is always a good move, and your strategy sounds sensible.

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Since it worked last time, it seems like a good idea to try it again. I hope you're able to sleep better tonight!

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

Getting a good night's sleep is the best thing for decent writing!

I hope the two scenes will work better now.

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Sounds like a good plan to split it up and a good night's rest helps everything.

[azdak.livejournal.com]

There is no Swedish class next week, so I don't feel obligated to produce any kind of writing until the week after. This being the case, I think I'm going to concentrate on the 17 Moments challenge, since that's ticking over quite nicely right now and I don't want to run out of steam. This means I probably won't be posting to the comm, although I shall almost certainly pop in now and then and leave the occasional comment.

[el-staplador.livejournal.com]

Good luck with the 17 Moments!

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

Best of luck for the challenge, and I hope to see you around.

[elmey.livejournal.com]

You could pop in to crowdsource which of your characters were actually alive at the time :)

Is your Swedish teacher enjoying the stories? I would think he would!

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Seize the flow!

[el-staplador.livejournal.com]

I've had a pretty exhausting week and am feeling pretty fragile today. I've managed about 275 words, to which I may or may not return and add more. Here is a little snippet:


Glen stopped half a second after I did, crashing out a vague resolving chord. 'Phyl, that would have been perfect – if you were a robot. Technically, you're much better than you realise, but you need to get the character into it.'

'I'm trying,' I said, miserably.

'Really? From where I'm sitting, it sounds like you're going for angelic choirboy, not hormonal teenage boy. The name's meant to be ironic...'

At this point he shut up, because I burst into tears. This is not something that usually happens in my singing lessons, so it threw him. He dealt with it fairly well, all things considered, passing me a box of tissues and waiting until I'd subsided to the occasional sniff before apologising.

'I'm sorry, Phyl. That was a bit harsh.'

I shook my head and took another tissue. 'Not your fault. I just can't deal with hormonal teenage boys at the moment.'

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

I hope you'll recover a bit over the weekend!

And I love the snippet you've posted - the way in which Phy's trouble with her singing lessons comes to reveal her emotional state. So, what's going on with the hormonal teenage boys in her life?

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Glen sounds like an excellent music teacher! Hormonal teenage boys can make anyone cry.

I'm sorry you had a bad week--but this is a very good snippet!

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

Hormonal teenage boys are pure hell. I should know - I deal with them for a living on a regular basis.
Get better, soon!

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Brava for getting any number of words down after an exhausting week.

Poor Phyl, trying to cover up distress while doing something as expressive as singing would be extremely difficult. Small wonder she sounded robotic.

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

I'm afraid I missed yesterday's update. The dreaded insomnia struck again, so I just made it through work, came home, and went straight to bed without eating, let alone writing anything.

I, um, may have slept for up to 11 hours and did take another nap today. But hey, afterwards, I managed to produce over 1,000 words!

So, here's my snippet for today:

Hippias dropped a bundle of letters on the bed and thrust a message right under her nose. "These are my informers’ usual reports. I wanted to go through them with Your Majesty, but I think you should read this first."

Cursive script looped elegantly over thick, expensive paper. The golden seal that showed the Emperor’s throne amidst winged lions had already been broken. At the bottom of the scroll, Attolia noticed another familiar stamp: Melheret’s personal sigil, carved in wax.

The letter from the Mede chancellery condoled the queen on her newly widowed state in exquisitely polite terms. Its florid prose made no mention of the year-long trade embargo, but it included personal greetings from another erstwhile ambassador: Nahuseresh was grieved to hear that such a young king had died so soon.

Attolia’s earthenware cup hit the wall in a shower of splinters and a spray of tea. With a loud yelp, the poodle jumped up from the carpet, rudely torn from its nap, and dug its teeth into Hippias’s tough leather boots.

"I’m afraid it mistook you for the Mede," the queen said dryly. "If these esteemed diplomats were here, I’d be tempted to bite, too. Only I’d have the good sense to go straight for the throat."

"They are mocking us, Your Majesty," Hippias huffed. "Provoking us, almost."

"Provking us, period. But I won’t be goaded into anything rash," Attolia said with a rueful look at the remains of the cup.

"We can’t risk giving them any pretext for war. We still don’t know where we stand with Magyar, and relations with Eddis and Sounis are somewhat … tense. Laying waste to their empire in order to avenge the slight to my dear departed husband? Very romantic, no doubt, and very stupid."

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Amazing what a good rest and a clear mind can do for you :)

I really like the way you're able to add very serious political considerations on top of the personal story, it adds an extra layer of tension to the scenes.

[el-staplador.livejournal.com]

11 hours sounds like bliss! Hope you're feeling better for it!

I'm loving the intrigue here.

[six-old-cars.livejournal.com]

Sleep is definitely good, and it's clearly had a positive effect on your word count! A nice snippet with some great intrigue.

Provking us, period.
Apart from the typo, I'm not sure about the word "period" here - to me it feels very current-day-American and out of keeping with the setting (though not knowing the fandom it may be a perfectly acceptable anachronism).

[elmey.livejournal.com]

It's Saturday; no write day. After spending the morning ushering a titmouse, who made it into the house, safely out, and making a menu and a grocery list (boring things seem to take forever), I am now looking at an afternoon of the usual chores. Meh. At least it's two or three degrees warmer than it has been and the sun is shining. We did get wood for the fireplace last week though, so will have a cozy evening watching something unedifying :)

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

I am now looking at an afternoon of the usual chores.

You can do it! I totally believe in you. :)

And your pllans for the evening sound splendid.

Spartan Saturday here, too

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

We cleaned the dratted flat. It took us only, oh, six hours, together with the hired help. Then I did the shopping for next week, because I'll be at work day and night, and my mother mustn't lift anything heavier than two pounds and she has to eat while I'm doing slave labour, the poor thing.a

Then I watched Cake Battle on German TV and felt the irresistible urge to bake something. A simple pear cake, in case you want to know. And since I was in the kitchen already, I cooked the meal for tomorrow.

Then I did some editing. I dug out a few old drabbles and double-drabbles in the hope that without the constricting for I might turn them into a Tolkien advent calender, which I haven't done for many, many years and felt like doing this year. It worked fairly well as long as I had existing material (that is, for the first four days), but I felt myself totally uninspired to write any new stuff. Am very frustrated. I think I'll watch Megalodon with John Barrowman - a really bad shark movie, in which he plays a straight guy and has to make out with women in the shower. Misery loves company, after all.

RE: Spartan Saturday here, too

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

I think you might need a bit of a break before you find the inspiration to write more. Your chores sound quite exhausting - maybe your brain just needs some rest too.

Enjoy the movie! It definitely sounds like a nice "it's-so-bad-it's-good" clonker.

[jenn-calaelen.livejournal.com]

A bit of prodding at the FDO story, trying to sort out how to add the information that has to be in the earlier bits... it doesn't feel like the additions are working right at the moment, but maybe will work better later. Spent most of the day trying to recover from the past week. Hopefully tomorrow, I'll get a chance to catch up here and inspiration for writing.

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

I know the feeling. *hugs*

[miss-morland.livejournal.com]

I've been writing a little almost every day, mostly exchange fics, but also a few other WIPs -- here's a snippet from one of them, an Earthsea fanfic.

**

At first, there was only the noise, a rustling, dragging sound of steady movement through heavy grass. Then, as the sun rose, silhouttes became visible on top of the hill, low dark shapes against the pink of early dawn, stalwartly working their way downwards and closer.

Thol's daughter, still not old enough to wear the feyag but tall and stately for her age, pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders as she watched the slow descent of the creatures. Here in the mountains, the cold lingered longer, and she was outside the sacred fire's reach, although the smell of burning fat was impossible to escape. The smoke rose lazily from the fire, rising grey towards the sky in majestic clouds.

No one on Hur-at-Hur, from the lowliest peasant to the greatest warrior, could ignore that great column of fire, which surely must be visible all over the island. But most people had come to take part in the spring festival. The valley was crowded with tents, the masses gathered below the Place of the Sacrifice to catch a glimpse of the rites, and the princess thought with some pride that most of these people would never get close enough to see the dragons with their own eyes.

"Seserakh," her mother said next to her, voice low. The princess could not see her face under the heavy veil, but she recognised the tone. She must have made a face of some sort, she thought as she straightened further, or otherwise she must have failed to look as solemn as befitted the occasion. It was no child's play, nor was she a child any longer. Next year by this time, she would be wearing the feyag. Already there had been suitors to speak with her father. Her mother and her aunts had told her the moon's curse might set in soon. Seserakh looked at the bowls of blood surrounding the sacred fire, and barely managed to suppress a grimace.

**

I need to reread the book this is based on (The Other Wind) to be certain I remember the info we get about Seserakh's background correctly, but this is the gist of it...

[el-staplador.livejournal.com]

Lovely description here - really atmospheric.

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Just finished one of the scenes that've been in my head for a few days. Am hoping to get at least two more written out this evening. This is the beginning of the scene that follows directly after Scryloc leaves Cerrig.

***

Melyd was on the bottom step when Scryloc rounded the corner of the mound. Behind her a high voice could be heard reciting numbers as it came closer.

“Oh.” Melyd paused on the stair. “Up early or not slept yet?” She took a careful inventory of Scryloc’s face, eye to eye because of the height of the step. She checked her hand as it lifted slightly at the sight of the dishevelled curls. Her fingers twitched as the hand fell back in place by her side.

The counting voice continued, the counter still hidden by the bend in the stairs.

“What do you need?” he asked, body angling as though to slip past her on the steps. They were both slim. He could do it without even touching her.

“Nothing. There were honey cakes this morning and when we didn’t see you there, we brought you some.” She glanced up. “The door was locked. We left them on the landing. Honey, too.”

“In the midst of a delicate investigation. Nothing must be moved,” he explained, although he needn’t have.

“The new thing?” Melyd asked quietly.

“Yes,” he replied and smiled.

A child came into view with a resounding nine. “Tas!” she cried when she saw Scryloc. She came down another step. “Ten,” she announced. She lifted up her arms and bounded off the stairs. Scryloc was quick enough to catch her.

“Fearless Seren,” he said.

[el-staplador.livejournal.com]

That's a sweet little encounter. Good luck with your other planned scenes!

[six-old-cars.livejournal.com]

I had a nicely productive write-in this morning and clocked up 1370 words! Gosh!

This snippet is after Catherine has had a bit of a reaction to the "solo dev plan" memory.
“What did you learn?” Franz asked.
Mel turned to face him. Catherine treated him to a glare, unsure whether to be more angry at his lack of concern for her or his interference in their private business.
“Why don't you go and reset the controls, Franz,” Mel said calmly, “or whatever it is you need to do. Leave Catherine's debrief to me.”
Franz swallowed, nodded and returned to to control room. Mel turned back to Catherine.
“I'm sorry, love, but Franz is sort of right. We don't have time to waste. Was there anything I need to make a note of? And will you be okay with another session?”
Catherine thought back over the memories. This wasn't a normal debrief; the time constraint meant she had to summarize and make judgements.
“There's some Denebian technology in the system...” Catherine shook her head. Judgements for Mel's perspective, she reminded herself. “Sorry. That was the first discussion. It showed they'd been reading each other's engrams and begun to get worried about what they were thinking. I can't tell whether that was related to the severe paranoia Arlan was developing. The second recording was too laden with... distrust, anger... her thought patterns were inconsistent, almost like she was suffering multiple personalities. It was a bit of a shock, that's all. I'll be okay if I stick to the earlier ones when they were all still largely sane.”
Mel nodded. “Okay.” She squeezed Catherine's hand then stood and returned to the control room.

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Great progress!

Catherine's headed into dangerous territory.