I haven't written very much today, but here is Arthur musing on the implications of Hardy's "I can get my hands on an SS uniform with no questions asked" confession:
Exotic. That was one of those words that people used to hide what they really meant. Hardy was a show-off, and he wore clothes that were always slightly more noticeable, somehow, than what other people wore, and he enjoyed saying things that shocked people, but that wasn't what they meant when they called him exotic. Exotic had to do with where he spent his nights, with those mysterious little periods of "Leave of Absence", when he vanished without warning for three or four days, and came back hollow-eyed and lethargic. Exotic had to do with that uncomfortable feeling he could create that everything you did or said had a sexual sub-text.
"I don't have time for this, Lieutenant but I will take the time if you insist on being difficult." He waved the remote unit in Adrian's face. "The Tech Commander would love to do this himself. I understand the two of you have history together."
"The Tech Commander is a fool, sir."
The Admiral threw his head back and guffawed. "You're right. The man is a little toad. Totally unsuited for his position." The laugh disappeared as quickly as it came.
His face was motionless as he brought the remote unit up and there was a gleam of something in his eyes. It was only a split second, a wince, a brief look of regret, but one noticed by the sharp eyes of his First Officer. Then Verel's eyes hardened and his lips thinned in resolution. The only people who would have enjoyed this, he had already sent out of the room. No one else needed to witness this. It was the only thing he could do for this stubborn man.
He slid one of the controls to the first position and pressed the remote unit. There was no reaction of pain or clenching of teeth, it was only a mild warning.
Verel's voice was one of irresistible command."He is your superior officer. You will address him with respect."
"A rank bought by political connections requires no respect." A sneer curled Adrian's lips.
Verel circled him like a tiger ready to swipe a gash of red across his victim's body. "So you're not entirely ignorant of political realities."
"They’re irrelevant." Adrian twisted his wrists in the tight cuffs, trying to ease the pain and the spreading numbness. His chest was tight.
The Admiral shook his head. "You're deliberately being a fool, Lieutenant."
"I'm a prisoner in an officer's uniform."
The illusions fell away, leaving the ugly truth.
"You don't mince words."
"I deal in facts."
"Are you trying to say I don't?" The edge of warning in the Admiral's voice was clear.
"You deal in political expediencies."
"I ensure the Safety and Security of the Empire."
Adrian finally lifted his eyes to look at him. "Rhetoric."
"You don't believe in the Empire?"
After a few challenging seconds, as they took each other's measure, Adrian looked away. "I believe in myself."
This is an interesting battle of wits between these two. I wonder how far the Admiral believes his own rhetoric, given that he's quite capable of seeing through the Tech Commander.
Just over 980 words written this lunchtime. Two scenes, leaving me close to the end of Chapter 3. Zack and Zoe don't yet know that Rob's missing.
Extract:
Zack left his bedroom window open a couple of centimetres, and didn't latch it. If Rob did get away, he could climb up that way without disturbing Zoe. He'd done it before, and he'd done the same thing to get into Zack's old room, before Dad went away. It wasn't ideal, him wandering round town completely on his own at night, but he knew how to look after himself, and there was a lot less trouble here than somewhere like Leeds or Sheffield.
Curling up on the far side of the bed from the window, Zack pulled the duvet around himself and thought about all the escapades they had planned for the summer. If they stuck to the back roads, they could get all the way to Carlisle on the bike in a day, and if they left early enough they could have a good mooch around and get back before anyone noticed they'd gone. They could even try going South: see if they could get somewhere like Northampton without being stopped. Rob was as keen as he was to find out if the ghost towns really did look like the pictures in their textbooks.
Zack thought about messaging Rob with this new idea, but it could wait till morning. He'd have plenty of time for messages during European History, and Rob might be less thoroughly grounded by then.
I determined that this weekend I would not leave writing until after everything else, and a solid session this afternoon has given me 618 words. A bit tough, because I wasn't quite sure what I was doing with the section, but they've turned out OK. I feel the story's definitely heading home now.
*
[Harriet] felt oddly lacklustre, in a way that she vaguely remembered feeling after she had won her Oxford scholarship, as if with so much new life in prospect one didn’t quite know what to do with it. The clock struck the quarter hour. The dons would be assembling for dinner, and though the prospect was rather daunting, no doubt over the initial shock it would not be too bad. They ought at least to be relied upon, after the shocks of recent days, to keep curiosity tolerably restrained, and even Miss Hillyard would be practice for facing Peter’s family. She put her book in her bag and marched boldly into the quad.
I can imagine that: both the lacklustre feeling (one needs goals to aim for, and becoming rich might take away some her her drive to write) and the nervousness about meeting his family. That era was still very class-defined, even though things were becoming more fluid.
I have not fallen off the edge of the earth! I have just been busy with [insert your favorite not-writing-excuse here]. I have been poking off and on at the Swordspoint story, but the bigger news of the day is that I have about 277 words of rough draft for a birthday ficlet which will be due next Friday, November 27. Fortunately, I will have lots of time off this week to devote to that story (which I'm estimating at 300-350 words), this week's t_w drabble, and the damned Swordspoint thing.
A quick recap of my goals (to lessen my guilt over evenings spent not-writing:) Major goal: 5 drabbles for November challenges at tolkien_weekly (500 words) Accomplished: 3 so far, 2 more to go. Minor goal: Whatever other writing happened Accomplished: Final October drabble for tolkien_weekly - 100 words Swordspoint ficlet "Reckless" - 179 words
I'm feeling much better about things now. The main goal is well on its way towards being met, and the rest of it is just icing.
I too have not actually fallen off the edge of the Earth. Last weekend was a long and VERY busy one, what with getting my better half onto a flight to Buenos Aires on Tuesday. So no writing for five whole days! I did manage to get some done Wednesday and Thursday lunch times (about 500 words between them) but didn't log in here to post anything.
Today I have not written anything of the month's project, but after posting a previous chapter for CWIL to critique I decided to help out the newer members by summarising the first thirteen chapters that they haven't seen. So I've written lots of words of synopsis, though I've only reached chapter 11 so not quite finished.
I slacked off yesterday for no good reason, today I've been mostly revising and wishing I had the technical skill to do what I want to do :( Tomorrow I will ignore the problem and plow on ahead.
I'm pleased to have reached my original goal in terms of word count, but since the story's not finished, only mildly pleased.
(What's the problem? Can we help? Without having the faintest clue what the difficulty is, my first impulse in problem-solving is to see if whatever-it-is can be done in the dialogue).
You've reached your original word count goal, and you still have over a week to finish the story, so I think you should be more than mildly pleased :-)
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2009-11-21 08:40 am (UTC)Exotic. That was one of those words that people used to hide what they really meant. Hardy was a show-off, and he wore clothes that were always slightly more noticeable, somehow, than what other people wore, and he enjoyed saying things that shocked people, but that wasn't what they meant when they called him exotic. Exotic had to do with where he spent his nights, with those mysterious little periods of "Leave of Absence", when he vanished without warning for three or four days, and came back hollow-eyed and lethargic. Exotic had to do with that uncomfortable feeling he could create that everything you did or said had a sexual sub-text.
no subject
on 2009-11-21 10:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 11:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 05:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 09:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-22 04:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 10:58 am (UTC)"I don't have time for this, Lieutenant but I will take the time if you insist on being difficult." He waved the remote unit in Adrian's face. "The Tech Commander would love to do this himself. I understand the two of you have history together."
"The Tech Commander is a fool, sir."
The Admiral threw his head back and guffawed. "You're right. The man is a little toad. Totally unsuited for his position." The laugh disappeared as quickly as it came.
His face was motionless as he brought the remote unit up and there was a gleam of something in his eyes. It was only a split second, a wince, a brief look of regret, but one noticed by the sharp eyes of his First Officer. Then Verel's eyes hardened and his lips thinned in resolution. The only people who would have enjoyed this, he had already sent out of the room. No one else needed to witness this. It was the only thing he could do for this stubborn man.
He slid one of the controls to the first position and pressed the remote unit. There was no reaction of pain or clenching of teeth, it was only a mild warning.
Verel's voice was one of irresistible command."He is your superior officer. You will address him with respect."
"A rank bought by political connections requires no respect." A sneer curled Adrian's lips.
Verel circled him like a tiger ready to swipe a gash of red across his victim's body. "So you're not entirely ignorant of political realities."
"They’re irrelevant." Adrian twisted his wrists in the tight cuffs, trying to ease the pain and the spreading numbness. His chest was tight.
The Admiral shook his head. "You're deliberately being a fool, Lieutenant."
"I'm a prisoner in an officer's uniform."
The illusions fell away, leaving the ugly truth.
"You don't mince words."
"I deal in facts."
"Are you trying to say I don't?" The edge of warning in the Admiral's voice was clear.
"You deal in political expediencies."
"I ensure the Safety and Security of the Empire."
Adrian finally lifted his eyes to look at him. "Rhetoric."
"You don't believe in the Empire?"
After a few challenging seconds, as they took each other's measure, Adrian looked away. "I believe in myself."
no subject
on 2009-11-21 11:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 05:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 06:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 09:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-22 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-11-21 02:10 pm (UTC)Just over 980 words written this lunchtime. Two scenes, leaving me close to the end of Chapter 3. Zack and Zoe don't yet know that Rob's missing.
Extract:
Zack left his bedroom window open a couple of centimetres, and didn't latch it. If Rob did get away, he could climb up that way without disturbing Zoe. He'd done it before, and he'd done the same thing to get into Zack's old room, before Dad went away. It wasn't ideal, him wandering round town completely on his own at night, but he knew how to look after himself, and there was a lot less trouble here than somewhere like Leeds or Sheffield.
Curling up on the far side of the bed from the window, Zack pulled the duvet around himself and thought about all the escapades they had planned for the summer. If they stuck to the back roads, they could get all the way to Carlisle on the bike in a day, and if they left early enough they could have a good mooch around and get back before anyone noticed they'd gone. They could even try going South: see if they could get somewhere like Northampton without being stopped. Rob was as keen as he was to find out if the ghost towns really did look like the pictures in their textbooks.
Zack thought about messaging Rob with this new idea, but it could wait till morning. He'd have plenty of time for messages during European History, and Rob might be less thoroughly grounded by then.
no subject
on 2009-11-21 05:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-22 04:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 05:54 pm (UTC)*
[Harriet] felt oddly lacklustre, in a way that she vaguely remembered feeling after she had won her Oxford scholarship, as if with so much new life in prospect one didn’t quite know what to do with it. The clock struck the quarter hour. The dons would be assembling for dinner, and though the prospect was rather daunting, no doubt over the initial shock it would not be too bad. They ought at least to be relied upon, after the shocks of recent days, to keep curiosity tolerably restrained, and even Miss Hillyard would be practice for facing Peter’s family. She put her book in her bag and marched boldly into the quad.
no subject
on 2009-11-21 06:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Posted byno subject
on 2009-11-21 06:30 pm (UTC)I like the description of the lacklustre feeling after a big achievement - I've felt exactly that way myself.
Well done on the word count!
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on 2009-11-21 10:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-22 04:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-21 11:32 pm (UTC)damnedSwordspoint thing.A quick recap of my goals (to lessen my guilt over evenings spent not-writing:)
Major goal: 5 drabbles for November challenges at
Accomplished: 3 so far, 2 more to go.
Minor goal: Whatever other writing happened
Accomplished: Final October drabble for
Swordspoint ficlet "Reckless" - 179 words
I'm feeling much better about things now. The main goal is well on its way towards being met, and the rest of it is just icing.
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on 2009-11-22 12:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2009-11-22 01:04 am (UTC)Today I have not written anything of the month's project, but after posting a previous chapter for CWIL to critique I decided to help out the newer members by summarising the first thirteen chapters that they haven't seen. So I've written lots of words of synopsis, though I've only reached chapter 11 so not quite finished.
no subject
on 2009-11-22 04:21 am (UTC)Great that you're still able to do the lunchtime writing.
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on 2009-11-22 04:19 am (UTC)Tomorrow I will ignore the problem and plow on ahead.
I'm pleased to have reached my original goal in terms of word count, but since the story's not finished, only mildly pleased.
no subject
on 2009-11-22 09:07 am (UTC)(What's the problem? Can we help? Without having the faintest clue what the difficulty is, my first impulse in problem-solving is to see if whatever-it-is can be done in the dialogue).
You've reached your original word count goal, and you still have over a week to finish the story, so I think you should be more than mildly pleased :-)
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