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Kat Scratch Fever Posts

NaNo Day 4 Stats

General Stats:

Words Written Today: 1342
Total Words Written: 6746
Write-ins attended: 2
Words Written at a Write-in Today: 0
Total Words Written at Write-ins: 3079
Cups of Coffee/Tea: 9
Plans Changed to Accommodate More Writing: 2
Named Characters Killed: 0
Scenes Completed: 11
Scenes that Will Probably be Cut Later: 4
Random Ideas Generated: 6

Random Thoughts:

  • Am officially out of buffer, but still on track. Will need to put some serious writing in this weekend to get back ahead of the game.
  • I am honestly convinced that I am mentally incapable of writing while I’m at home.
  • Reading threads titled “Adopt a Pickup Line” shortly before trying to write a scene where a guy meets a girl, even if he’s NOT trying to hit on her, is a bad idea.

Last Line I Wrote Today:

I didn’t fault Lauren for not having recognized her, and I still had no idea who she was.

Excerpt:

“JUDE.” Lauren said tersely. I knew that tone; she was jealous, and didn’t appreciate not being the only really good looking woman at the club. Worse, she probably especially hated not being THE best looking woman there. I looked up at her and saw that she was wearing her Ice Queen face. It was time to get her home before she did something stupid.

“Ah, it seems to be time to leave.” I said to Jericho. “It’s been lovely, sorry to have to cut it short.” Lauren tapped her foot impatiently as I put my card down on the counter in front of Jericho. “If you find yourself free tomorrow evening and want company, or need a tour, event recommendation or anything at all, give me a call. I know this city inside and out.” She placed the card in her wallet and thanked me. I nodded respectfully towards Bobby and led Lauren out of the club.

Most men would have given the whole world to have had a conversation with one beautiful blonde end with taking another home, but frankly, I was more than just a little miffed. Just because Lauren didn’t physically appear to be much older than nineteen years old didn’t mean she had to behave like it still. She felt like she was entitled to the moon and stars in the sky by the sheer virtue of her attractiveness, and Violet had re-enforced that belief by giving her whatever she wanted.

Typo of the Day:

I misspelled “widened” as “widended”, but had no problems with “quizzically”.

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NaNo Day 3 Stats

General Stats:

Words Written Today: 1186
Total Words Written: 5442
Write-ins attended: 2
Words Written at a Write-in Today: 1078
Total Words Written at Write-ins: 3079
Cups of Coffee/Tea: 7
Plans Changed to Accommodate More Writing: 2
Named Characters Killed: 0
Scenes Completed: 9
Scenes that Will Probably be Cut Later: 4
Random Ideas Generated: 5

Random Thoughts:

  • I will seriously need to hire a team of males to point out all the places my main character sounds like a chick. Hint: there’s a lot of them.
  • It pains me to say it, but there is in fact such a thing as too much coffee.
  • It’s hard to type and eat a sandwich at the same time.
  • My spell check is not psychic.
  • My vocabulary and I are not on speaking terms today, apparently.
  • I’m a little low today’s word count but still a bit ahead of the game. I’m hoping to add a larger buffer this weekend.

Last Line I Wrote Today:

When the bartender brought  —

Yes, I stopped writing in the middle of a sentence. That’s how hard my vocabulary is fighting me tonight.

Excerpt:

Up until that point, Lauren had been one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She had a bombshell figure, a seductive smile and an air of alluring confidence. The woman that had just walked in to the club was a step above all that and put Lauren to shame. She was absolutely stunning.

Her skin was very fair and flawless in that way that porcelain is, and her features were vaguely Nordic. Her long, light blonde hair was streaked with blues and pinks in a few places, and she looked around the room with ice blue eyes. As she shrugged out of her coat, I noticed that she had a tattoo of a large palm tree on her forearm, and her slender frame had just enough muscle to indicate that she took really good care of herself.

I must have spent just a tick too long staring at her, because the girl I’d been chatting to a moment earlier huffed and left her seat. I groaned quietly. She had been nice to talk to, seemed at least a little interested in me, and I really could have used a bite to eat that evening, all things considered.

Word of the Day:

lilt /lilt/
Noun: A characteristic rising and falling of the voice when speaking; a pleasant gentle accent.

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NaNo Day 2 Stats

General Stats:

Words Written Today: 1692
Total Words Written: 4256
Write-ins attended: 1
Words Written at a Write-in Today: 0
Total Words Written at Write-ins: 2001
Cups of Coffee: 3
Plans Changed to Accommodate More Writing: 1
Named Characters Killed: 0
Scenes Completed: 7
Scenes that Will Probably be Cut Later: 3
Random Ideas Generated: 4

Random Thoughts:

  • My main character is not acting like himself.
  • Had a hard time focusing today, took me a while to get going.
  • I didn’t write as much as I would have liked today. Hoping tomorrow will be better. Made word count for the day at least, though!

Last Line I Wrote Today:

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, pulling her helmet onto her head. “He’s trying to kill me.”

Excerpt:

“You’re out of your damn fool mind, you know that?” I declared, “You really should get the hell out of here before Violet sees you. I’ll even forget that I saw you, as a courtesy.” She laughed at that.

“Oh Jude. Violet isn’t going to be here any time soon, she’s busy. Besides, you’re already in this one with me. I’ve got evidence, and I know Violet’s mailing address.” I looked up at only the security camera that would have had a clear shot of us and grinned.

“What, from that? It’s not recording anything, not with the kinds of things that go on around here.”

“It is now, and it’s streaming everything to a location you won’t find.” She pulled a phone out of her corset and showed me a picture of the two of us sitting at the bar, with me accepting the envelope that was still between us. Well shit. She was playing my game, and playing it well.

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NaNo Day 1 Stats

I shamelessly stole the idea and part of the format for novel stats from The Crystalline Aerie; I hope she doesn’t mind! I’m going to call these stats “accountability”.

General Stats:

Words Written Today: 2564
Total Words Written: 2564
Write-ins attended: 1
Words Written at a Write-in Today: 2001
Total Words Written at Write-ins: 2001
Cups of Coffee: 2
Plans Changed to Accommodate More Writing: 1
Named Characters Killed: 0
Scenes Completed: 4
Scenes that Will Probably be Cut Later: 2
Random Ideas Generated: 3

Random Thoughts:

  • Scrivener, where have you been all my life?!
  • Fact: coffee tastes better at midnight, which I verified at the midnight kick-off write in I attended.
  • My brain responds very oddly when I ask it, “what’s a good reason for the MC to leave his house right now?”
  • My writing is still pretty bad haha.
  • I’m a terrible speller.

Favorite Line I Wrote Today:

“I had assumed that no longer sweating meant that I didn’t have to do laundry ever again, but the fact of the matter was that some ladies still didn’t appreciate my charm, and red wine stains refuse to take themselves out of most fabrics.”

Best Typos/Fake Words of the Day:

  • Demin
  • comiseraters

Opening Lines:

I politely waited for a moment for the swell of applause to die down, at least enough to talk over. In that moment, I really let it all sink in; where I was, what I had accomplished, and the price I paid to get there. The bright lights, the million eyes on me, and the rolling cameras were amazing, despite the heavy weight on the sliver of soul I had left. Somewhere in those million eyes, there were two that were filled with the tears from a broken heart.

I briefly asked myself, was it worth it? Everything, to be right here, right now?

Absolutely.

 

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NaNoWriMo, Take… Six?

In a mere three hours, I will be starting what I believe is my sixth attempt at NaNoWriMo. My book keeping is a bit fuzzy. Those of you that know me know that I’ve tried and failed multiple times, but I keep getting on the horse. Why? I don’t know, probably because I’m a little crazy and/or masochistic.

To me, the important part is that I have fun when I’m trying. My discipline gets a little better every year, as does my writing. So I keep trying, because one of these years, I’ll win.

My novel-attempt this year is a social commentary on fame vs. infamy buried under a layer (or five) of vampires, the equivalent of Lady GaGa if she was made of magic and wrote Norwegian Death Ballads, and general depravity.

Will this year be the one that I win? It’d be nice if it was, but if it’s not, I’ll try again next year.

Because really, I’m not a failure until I stop trying.

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