Ending Word Count: 27, 667
In fairness, it was 27, 666. But I just added an adverb (with apologies to Stephen King) to the last sentence. Superstition and all that.
I’m getting through the final couple chapters of act one. Exciting stuff is happening and I find myself typing so fast I’m forgetting things like conjunctions, spaces and punctuation.
I really should have paid more attention in that typing class in high school.
Last night had a Skype call with a good man. Emmett Spain (a fellow writer and comic book fan) and I are working on an interesting piece. It’s a steampunk/heist novella with the working title: Scoundrels of Paradise. I have to be honest–he and I laugh so much during these collaboration sessions that less gets done then we plan.
Spending the rest of the day/evening outlining, plotting, and generally making characters of mine spanning multiple genres rather miserable. Ah well, such is the life of a writer. Blame it on the strokes.
Here is a snippet of today’s #NaNoWriMo work. Enjoy and be at peace.
“Symon!” shouted an angry voice with a familiar Irish lilt. “Wake up ye gob!”
My eyes flew open. The ring on my finger instantly transformed into the black staff, Celtic runes came to life with a pop and a hiss, burning an angry red.
I’d just started to get out of my seat when the world turned on its side. There was a horrendous metallic screech and a gut-wrenching lurch. My brian barely had time to register sheer terror as the Green line train jumped the track and plowed into the heavy Boston holiday traffic.