Tom
Istar
2931 words today, most of it notes (again). This is actually working for me. When I get stuck on the story I'll just switch over to notes.
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Nano 2016 Motivation and Confession Thread
- Thread starter Caged Maiden
- Start date
4900 words today 
I caught up from taking the weekend off. Good thing my daughter had a super long nap lol.
I caught up from taking the weekend off. Good thing my daughter had a super long nap lol.
Nimue
Auror
I'm squeaking by on my goals. And at the same time, somehow, mysteriously have the words & energy to write twice as much on my stupid daydream story. (Before anyone thinks that might be impressive, I've only added 8.8k combined to the two stories this month. I set the bar low and I keep running into it.)
It's just incredibly frustrating that my only consistent motivation is writing for my own goddamn entertainment. An awful motivation. A good book comes along and I'm uninterested. At least this way I'm still making some progress on my main WIP, but still...
Here, I'll barf up bits of each to illustrate why it's such a stupid idea to bounce between these stories... Not edited. Probably makes no sense. But the f*cking tone!
Sorry those are so long. Twice as much of the indulgent story, appropriately enough. Probably taking the "confessional" part of this thread too seriously, but I can't do a single thing right. Better to be writing than to be not writing, I suppose. If I could just not be so distracted for two ****ing seconds of my life...
It's just incredibly frustrating that my only consistent motivation is writing for my own goddamn entertainment. An awful motivation. A good book comes along and I'm uninterested. At least this way I'm still making some progress on my main WIP, but still...
Here, I'll barf up bits of each to illustrate why it's such a stupid idea to bounce between these stories... Not edited. Probably makes no sense. But the f*cking tone!
He took a moment to speak. “I know nothing of any laws of witchcraft. This I know: that my father, thane of Tirannon, was cursed at the equinox, and has lain bedridden this past month, without strength or wits.”
Sabhenna knew what the accusation would be before it was made, and fear came coursing back into her throat. It did not matter that this news surprised her, that she had never laid eyes or hands upon the thane–it did not matter, to men who knew nothing of magic’s working.
“You were there when he fell,” he went on, his voice deep and relentless. “You were the last of that isle, sorceress or witch. And when we discovered you in the tower, you had cast some spell–a circle around you, and a cup of some potion.”
“That!” Her incredulity cut through the rising fog of despair. “That was nothing but salt and bay leaves.” As the men glanced at each other again, she shook her head. “For protection, all that I could manage, against the storm of black magic Maelach was raising…” She swallowed the foul taste of his name on her tongue, and tried to see a way forward. “Something you might sweep away does not have the power to carry a curse over days or sennights. For this, if it is true, if this has outlasted Maelach’s death… It would be bound into a powerful vessel.”
“We have searched every corner of that ruin, and burned whatever would catch.” Lothar regarded her, his eyes like a wolf’s under those dark brows. “There is nothing left there of the sorcerer’s craft.”
“There were… There are hidden chambers in the ruin,” Sabhenna said softly. She had not wanted to think of that place again, much less speak of it. “Shut by magic, opened only by it. Ancient magic, anchored in the stones themselves, that would remain through fire and wind and rain.” She closed her eyes for a scant moment before caution pulled them open again. “I know nothing of this curse, if that is what it is. What do you ask of me? Could it not be a mortal illness that has taken the thane?”
Delusion in the face of a loved one’s mortality she had seen before. Though, by all accounts, if Thane Cathair was truly loved by any under his rule, it would surprise her.
“He fell in the attack on the sorcerer. It was sudden and complete. He has not been able to stand or speak more than a few words since,” Lothar said shortly.
“This is very like a fit or seizure,” Sabhenna said, frowning. “Which can take away the faculties of mind and body in a moment.”
“He has recovered nothing, as the physicians thought he might,” Lothar replied, with impatience in his voice for the first time. “And whole words he speaks, clear and meaningful, until something grips him and seems to drown him again.”
Sabhenna was silent. If he was convinced of this, how could the word of a witch sway him? It was simpler, as so many had done, to burn the witch and turn to hunt for another when the curse did not lift with her murder.
Sabhenna knew what the accusation would be before it was made, and fear came coursing back into her throat. It did not matter that this news surprised her, that she had never laid eyes or hands upon the thane–it did not matter, to men who knew nothing of magic’s working.
“You were there when he fell,” he went on, his voice deep and relentless. “You were the last of that isle, sorceress or witch. And when we discovered you in the tower, you had cast some spell–a circle around you, and a cup of some potion.”
“That!” Her incredulity cut through the rising fog of despair. “That was nothing but salt and bay leaves.” As the men glanced at each other again, she shook her head. “For protection, all that I could manage, against the storm of black magic Maelach was raising…” She swallowed the foul taste of his name on her tongue, and tried to see a way forward. “Something you might sweep away does not have the power to carry a curse over days or sennights. For this, if it is true, if this has outlasted Maelach’s death… It would be bound into a powerful vessel.”
“We have searched every corner of that ruin, and burned whatever would catch.” Lothar regarded her, his eyes like a wolf’s under those dark brows. “There is nothing left there of the sorcerer’s craft.”
“There were… There are hidden chambers in the ruin,” Sabhenna said softly. She had not wanted to think of that place again, much less speak of it. “Shut by magic, opened only by it. Ancient magic, anchored in the stones themselves, that would remain through fire and wind and rain.” She closed her eyes for a scant moment before caution pulled them open again. “I know nothing of this curse, if that is what it is. What do you ask of me? Could it not be a mortal illness that has taken the thane?”
Delusion in the face of a loved one’s mortality she had seen before. Though, by all accounts, if Thane Cathair was truly loved by any under his rule, it would surprise her.
“He fell in the attack on the sorcerer. It was sudden and complete. He has not been able to stand or speak more than a few words since,” Lothar said shortly.
“This is very like a fit or seizure,” Sabhenna said, frowning. “Which can take away the faculties of mind and body in a moment.”
“He has recovered nothing, as the physicians thought he might,” Lothar replied, with impatience in his voice for the first time. “And whole words he speaks, clear and meaningful, until something grips him and seems to drown him again.”
Sabhenna was silent. If he was convinced of this, how could the word of a witch sway him? It was simpler, as so many had done, to burn the witch and turn to hunt for another when the curse did not lift with her murder.
The detector came free of its protective wrappings as Daichi pulled it out, and bent to fasten a loose wire. Ai knelt beside it, tucking her feet under her, and touched one of the connector plates, looking into the dark sphere on top, the cryptic glimmers of metal underneath the glass. “Can I?” she asked, glancing up at him.
There was a small pause, in which she saw him doing calculations of the possibilities. Now that was familiar. “Go ahead,” he said, easily enough.
She let out a deep breath, pressing the air from her lungs, and let her eyelids close. Just a sliver of power, first, spilling from her fingers into the machine. The wires drew it in at once, siphoned up into the glass sphere like a fountain. Slowly she poured more into it, pushing into the nooks and crannies of the construct. The workings of it were a mystery, but she felt the shape of the parts as her magic illuminated them, the wholeness of the pattern once it was filled. And it felt good, so good, to be releasing some of the power that prickled at her head and her nerves. Her breathing grew calm and steady.
When she opened her eyes at last, the sphere was glowing like a silver moon on its pedestal of wires. Every part of the construct was alive and flowing sweetly.
“Beautiful,” Daichi said, putting a hand on the glass like a father feeling a child’s temperature. Warmth spread over Ai’s cheeks; she bowed her head to examine one of the control panels.
“How do you work it?”
“On the output end, it’s nothing complicated,” he said, circling the construct. “Any dark impulses sensed by the energy field are mirrored here, in the screen.”
“How far out can it sense?”
“About ten leagues, so almost all the city.” There was a distinct tinge of pride in his voice, but he followed it with doubt. “We think so, at least. The problem remains that it might be picking up other things, like foreign magic, burial land, or any number of anomalies in the earth’s magical field. We needed to be able to run it longer, get a more stable signal, and isolate what we’re seeing against reported events…”
Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment as she investigated the construct’s insides, not by vision but by the light of her magic. “There’s a power coil in here, isn’t there. May I fill it?”
Daichi’s eyebrows lifted. “If you want to. It’s much larger than the standard, though--don’t stretch yourself.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ai murmured.
A minute and a flood of magic later, she pulled her hands back and stretched, cracking her shoulders and her neck. Now there was a relief. She felt pleasantly tired, body warm as though she’d just run some distance. Why couldn’t the Sage’s exercises ask only power from her, not concentration?
“Done?” Daichi peered at the energy indicator, and seeing the white line glowing at its fullest, shook his head. “That would put anyone else flat on their back, Inoue, you know that.”
“Oh, I know.” She smiled at him.
He gave a breathy chuckle, but his brow clouded as he stared at something on the other side of the sphere. “Come look at this.”
She obeyed, rubbing the stiffness from her legs as she did. Under the glass screen, there was a small dark point in the luminous field of magic, pulsing softly outwards every few moments. Ai’s heart skipped a beat.
“There is something,” she whispered.
Daichi looked askance at her inflection, but didn’t hesitate to go on. “It might be something else, as I said, but that… that’s likely. Stable, too. We were having extraordinary problems keeping the signal from going out, the location jumping madly, but this is really clear. I think...your magic responds unusually well to the polarization, and may just be more sensitive…”
Ai propped her chin on her hand and regarded him. “Are you trying to tell me, Chief Artisan, that the divine magic of a Sacred Mage reacts against dark energies?” she said, dryly. “Can it really be?”
He laughed. “Well, of course, I just never thought of that in terms of the project.” With a moment’s thought, he coughed and added, “Not that if I had, I would have asked for your power, that seems…”
“This is a thousand times more useful than any of the bloody ceremonies they have me doing,” Ai muttered. “How long will that coil last?”
“With continuous power? About a week.” The glance he snuck at her was unmistakably hopeful, though Ai pretended not to notice.
“I’ll come back then, and ring me if it dies sooner.”
“That’s very good of you, Inoue.”
“It really isn’t,” Ai sighed, and looked down at the tiny ink-spot of darkness. “Can you tell where this is coming from? Where in the City, I mean?” she asked, a little recklessly.
But Daichi was too caught up in the construct’s success to suspect her motives. He grabbed a connecting wire and fastened it into a port by the door, impatiently tapping on a tech screen embedded in the wall to wake it up. After a few moments he had an aerial map of the City and was wrangling the signal from the detector. Ai stared intently over his shoulder. At last he had it narrowed down to a few streets in the Jiongpan neighborhood, that Ai did her best to memorize. The blot of darkness rippled over the still image of roofs and paved courtyards like a thundercloud. “The location doesn’t mean much to me. But if there turns out to be a sorcerer there…” Daichi stroked the day’s worth of stubble on his chin. “It’s a data point. And if we run this for a while, cross-check it with the City reports, we should have enough to prove that this is dark energy we’re looking at.” His eyes were alight. “The Guard would be interested in that.”
“I imagine so,” Ai said evenly. “In due time, tha could prove very useful.”
--
An hour later she stood on a temple roof overlooking Jiongpan, her heart pounding triumphantly.
There was a small pause, in which she saw him doing calculations of the possibilities. Now that was familiar. “Go ahead,” he said, easily enough.
She let out a deep breath, pressing the air from her lungs, and let her eyelids close. Just a sliver of power, first, spilling from her fingers into the machine. The wires drew it in at once, siphoned up into the glass sphere like a fountain. Slowly she poured more into it, pushing into the nooks and crannies of the construct. The workings of it were a mystery, but she felt the shape of the parts as her magic illuminated them, the wholeness of the pattern once it was filled. And it felt good, so good, to be releasing some of the power that prickled at her head and her nerves. Her breathing grew calm and steady.
When she opened her eyes at last, the sphere was glowing like a silver moon on its pedestal of wires. Every part of the construct was alive and flowing sweetly.
“Beautiful,” Daichi said, putting a hand on the glass like a father feeling a child’s temperature. Warmth spread over Ai’s cheeks; she bowed her head to examine one of the control panels.
“How do you work it?”
“On the output end, it’s nothing complicated,” he said, circling the construct. “Any dark impulses sensed by the energy field are mirrored here, in the screen.”
“How far out can it sense?”
“About ten leagues, so almost all the city.” There was a distinct tinge of pride in his voice, but he followed it with doubt. “We think so, at least. The problem remains that it might be picking up other things, like foreign magic, burial land, or any number of anomalies in the earth’s magical field. We needed to be able to run it longer, get a more stable signal, and isolate what we’re seeing against reported events…”
Her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment as she investigated the construct’s insides, not by vision but by the light of her magic. “There’s a power coil in here, isn’t there. May I fill it?”
Daichi’s eyebrows lifted. “If you want to. It’s much larger than the standard, though--don’t stretch yourself.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ai murmured.
A minute and a flood of magic later, she pulled her hands back and stretched, cracking her shoulders and her neck. Now there was a relief. She felt pleasantly tired, body warm as though she’d just run some distance. Why couldn’t the Sage’s exercises ask only power from her, not concentration?
“Done?” Daichi peered at the energy indicator, and seeing the white line glowing at its fullest, shook his head. “That would put anyone else flat on their back, Inoue, you know that.”
“Oh, I know.” She smiled at him.
He gave a breathy chuckle, but his brow clouded as he stared at something on the other side of the sphere. “Come look at this.”
She obeyed, rubbing the stiffness from her legs as she did. Under the glass screen, there was a small dark point in the luminous field of magic, pulsing softly outwards every few moments. Ai’s heart skipped a beat.
“There is something,” she whispered.
Daichi looked askance at her inflection, but didn’t hesitate to go on. “It might be something else, as I said, but that… that’s likely. Stable, too. We were having extraordinary problems keeping the signal from going out, the location jumping madly, but this is really clear. I think...your magic responds unusually well to the polarization, and may just be more sensitive…”
Ai propped her chin on her hand and regarded him. “Are you trying to tell me, Chief Artisan, that the divine magic of a Sacred Mage reacts against dark energies?” she said, dryly. “Can it really be?”
He laughed. “Well, of course, I just never thought of that in terms of the project.” With a moment’s thought, he coughed and added, “Not that if I had, I would have asked for your power, that seems…”
“This is a thousand times more useful than any of the bloody ceremonies they have me doing,” Ai muttered. “How long will that coil last?”
“With continuous power? About a week.” The glance he snuck at her was unmistakably hopeful, though Ai pretended not to notice.
“I’ll come back then, and ring me if it dies sooner.”
“That’s very good of you, Inoue.”
“It really isn’t,” Ai sighed, and looked down at the tiny ink-spot of darkness. “Can you tell where this is coming from? Where in the City, I mean?” she asked, a little recklessly.
But Daichi was too caught up in the construct’s success to suspect her motives. He grabbed a connecting wire and fastened it into a port by the door, impatiently tapping on a tech screen embedded in the wall to wake it up. After a few moments he had an aerial map of the City and was wrangling the signal from the detector. Ai stared intently over his shoulder. At last he had it narrowed down to a few streets in the Jiongpan neighborhood, that Ai did her best to memorize. The blot of darkness rippled over the still image of roofs and paved courtyards like a thundercloud. “The location doesn’t mean much to me. But if there turns out to be a sorcerer there…” Daichi stroked the day’s worth of stubble on his chin. “It’s a data point. And if we run this for a while, cross-check it with the City reports, we should have enough to prove that this is dark energy we’re looking at.” His eyes were alight. “The Guard would be interested in that.”
“I imagine so,” Ai said evenly. “In due time, tha could prove very useful.”
--
An hour later she stood on a temple roof overlooking Jiongpan, her heart pounding triumphantly.
Sorry those are so long. Twice as much of the indulgent story, appropriately enough. Probably taking the "confessional" part of this thread too seriously, but I can't do a single thing right. Better to be writing than to be not writing, I suppose. If I could just not be so distracted for two ****ing seconds of my life...
I'm just wondering, Nim, why do you consider it an indulgent story? Why don't you write the story you want to write instead of forcing yourself to write the one you think is 'better' but not nearly as interesting for you?
If it is interesting for you don't you think it would be interesting to other people too? I thought it was fascinating.
PS: Your unedited writing is better than my finished draft writing. I don't even use words like incredulous.
If it is interesting for you don't you think it would be interesting to other people too? I thought it was fascinating.
PS: Your unedited writing is better than my finished draft writing. I don't even use words like incredulous.
- Thread starter
- #106
Nimue, don't hate me...but I read the name as Cat-hair. Not that my troubled brain need be any indicator of anything, but could you change it a little to Ca'thair, or Cathaire? Just some suggestions.
BTW, love Lothar as a name. And I liked the "that was just salt and bay leaves" bit. So funny. I'm writing about a woman with witch powers right now, too.
Thanks for sharing! I really loved the first segment you posted. It felt like a naturally tense moment that I felt like I understood right away.
BTW, love Lothar as a name. And I liked the "that was just salt and bay leaves" bit. So funny. I'm writing about a woman with witch powers right now, too.
Thanks for sharing! I really loved the first segment you posted. It felt like a naturally tense moment that I felt like I understood right away.
Ireth
Myth Weaver
I'm struggling to write my villain's interaction with the MC's parents. He's turned out to be unexpectedly cordial, at least when not dealing directly with the MC herself. I suppose it ought to be par for the course given he's a deacon, but it still feels strange after writing him physically and emotionally abusing my MC. And he's currently searching for her (and her girlfriend) in her parents' house. This is a weird scene. I might end up cutting it later; it's just not jumping off the page for me. For now though, I need the wordcount.
Thomas Laszlo
Sage
I'm at 379 words... I would blame it on school but excuses are excuses. I just have been tired and decided not to write which is horrible.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
I went and wrote a blog post about the signature songs of my main character: Soundtrack for a Frozen Soul ? s v r t n s s e
This is one of my favorite parts of setting up a story, but because reasons I hadn't gotten around to it until now. For a long time I had only two songs picked out, but then the other day I put a bit of effort into it and finally get all five selected. Technically, it's nearly 800 words written for that post (work was really slow today).
It's fascinating how much quicker it is to write random ramblings like that than actually story content.
This is one of my favorite parts of setting up a story, but because reasons I hadn't gotten around to it until now. For a long time I had only two songs picked out, but then the other day I put a bit of effort into it and finally get all five selected. Technically, it's nearly 800 words written for that post (work was really slow today).
It's fascinating how much quicker it is to write random ramblings like that than actually story content.
Nimue
Auror
It isn't that I'm not interested in my main story--if anything, I'm too interested, too invested, that I need every line and snippet to be good (against all odds).
I think it's so much easier to write the dumb story because it's never going to be read by anyone. (Which differs from the other story how? /snark) You can't get more low-pressure and comfort-foody than a 3-year-old google doc about 9-year-old characters that I throw words at only when I feel like doing so. And with that dumb story, I can skip exposition because the intended audience (me) already knows what's happening, gloss over the plot and action (really) and go straight to scene after scene of dissecting the main characters' emotional struggles and giving them Significant conversations with each other. Yes, that's what constitutes a juicy bit for me, okay.
In that light I guess it isn't surprising that I fled to the google doc story when the neon light of "NOVEMBER" flashed on. Low pressure, high pressure, etc. But it's frustrating because 8.8k in a week is among the best rates I've ever been able to do, and if I had done that on my main project alone, I'd be ecstatic.
Hopefully I'll be able to shift that balance after I come unstuck on a vague travel portion (my nemesis!) of my main story and get into some really meaty scenes that I've been looking forward to for a while. Trying to steer myself away from the pissy mood. Writer's group NaNo write-in edition is tonight, so hopefully that will help.
Anyway. Thank you Helio and also CM for your words of encouragement (and yes for sure, CM, the Cat-hair issue did occur to me--I also named a guy Searchas? This is the problem with naming on the fly. 60% of my names are fluid atm). You guys are a couple of cinnamon roll moms.
Ireth
Myth Weaver
My villain is either acting wildly out of character or exposing a legitimately sympathetic side I didn't know he had. I can't tell which, and it's kinda baffling, because either way would drastically change the rest of my story.
Did my 1700 words today Yay! I'm so happy with my progress.
Yay! I'm so happy with my progress.
Added 700 words to the story as well. Don't know the total. Then I went to have a few pints with my old boss who's leaving for the states and had a few pints. Now it's technically a new day - since 15 minutes. I'm dragged my laptop over to the bed and will try to add a little bit more to the story.
It's cold as a really cold thing in here and I don't have the heating on because I'm cheap like that. I'm freezing my toes off.
Gonna take advantage of being a bit woozy and try and tap some words out. Hopefully I won't feel forced to delete all of them tomorrow morning.
It's cold as a really cold thing in here and I don't have the heating on because I'm cheap like that. I'm freezing my toes off.
Gonna take advantage of being a bit woozy and try and tap some words out. Hopefully I won't feel forced to delete all of them tomorrow morning.
C
Chessie
Guest
Today's total is 2,650 bringing me to 15,506. I'm still in chapter 3 but things are speeding up now. Ludmila has been taken captive by the witch Baba Yaga for stealing an important herb from her garden in the woods. She's being held in Baba's hut for 3 days doing a variety of chores and tasks as payment for her crime. If she tries to leave then the horsemen are ordered to kill her. Lucky enough for Ludmila, the Horseman Of Bright Day (the love interest) is assigned to guard her. Of course she misbehaves and tries to escape. Nothing like real tension to add on to sexual chemistry, eh?
And now I better go before my husband divorces me...
And now I better go before my husband divorces me...
Tom
Istar
2018! Aeyu and Miekkhal have established a wary respect for each other that I didn't expect them to have. In the first drafts, they simply hated each other.
Gribba
Troubadour
3962 words today... jeii...
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Ireth
Myth Weaver
1652 words today, once again just squeaking past par. Hopefully my numbers will improve during the weekends. But hey, at least I'm on track!
Gribba
Troubadour
added some 1199 words while letting the TV run in the background, to find out who would be the next president in USA.
- Thread starter
- #120
I'm forcing myself to do something really uncomfortable, so I can keep up my nano progress...I'm skipping ahead. Oh, and it makes me feel dirty.
I have the skeleton for a chapter in place, but it's a first draft and not the quality I want to see out of this edit. But I can't spend more time staring at it, hoping inspiration will suddenly strike me. It's not horrible as it is, but it's a bit ragged around the edges. So, I'm moving on. I'm going to write another scene today, one that i'm really excited about. this, I've learned from nanos past, where I let a tricky scene get me stuck, and then I fell too far behind in the word counts, and had to finish with four 5k word days. Don't like being in that position, so i'm trying a new tactic that's really horrible for me. I get guilty feelings if I don't fix things up pretty, so hopefully I can stick with this and just get the work done, and come back and dress things up in a few days or weeks.
:eek2:
I have the skeleton for a chapter in place, but it's a first draft and not the quality I want to see out of this edit. But I can't spend more time staring at it, hoping inspiration will suddenly strike me. It's not horrible as it is, but it's a bit ragged around the edges. So, I'm moving on. I'm going to write another scene today, one that i'm really excited about. this, I've learned from nanos past, where I let a tricky scene get me stuck, and then I fell too far behind in the word counts, and had to finish with four 5k word days. Don't like being in that position, so i'm trying a new tactic that's really horrible for me. I get guilty feelings if I don't fix things up pretty, so hopefully I can stick with this and just get the work done, and come back and dress things up in a few days or weeks.
:eek2:
