Nimue
Auror
I wanted to have a place for people to post excerpts of their NaNo piece if they want to, whether it's a line or two or a full post. I seem to remember people doing something like this in the chat of Camp NaNo, and though I didn't get much done during that challenge, I enjoyed reading what other people were working on. It'd be awesome if this was a daily or every-other-daily thing, but it's completely on a "share what you want to" basis.
If anyone wants to post feedback in this thread as well, I'm thinking that it should only be general/positive/glancing, rather than critique, because most of us are doing first-draft kind of stuff. Unless someone has specific questions, like: "Does this line make sense?"
Alright, I do want to get a glimpse of other people's projects, so I'll trade you a random out-of-context paragraph from what I wrote today. I'm working on my neglected medieval fantasy WIP, Wildwitch.
In one of the wooded stretches, they passed by a shrine of pale stone with some strange figure carved upon it, set into the trunk of a black and gnarled oak. Both stone and tree looked ancient, but the roots of the tree clasped the small altar without cracking or covering it. Vivaine stared at it a while, wondering what unseen god it belonged to, and it was only because she looked so long that she noticed one of the huntsmen leaving a round loaf of bread on the altar. A prayer without words or lingering.
If anyone wants to post feedback in this thread as well, I'm thinking that it should only be general/positive/glancing, rather than critique, because most of us are doing first-draft kind of stuff. Unless someone has specific questions, like: "Does this line make sense?"
Alright, I do want to get a glimpse of other people's projects, so I'll trade you a random out-of-context paragraph from what I wrote today. I'm working on my neglected medieval fantasy WIP, Wildwitch.
In one of the wooded stretches, they passed by a shrine of pale stone with some strange figure carved upon it, set into the trunk of a black and gnarled oak. Both stone and tree looked ancient, but the roots of the tree clasped the small altar without cracking or covering it. Vivaine stared at it a while, wondering what unseen god it belonged to, and it was only because she looked so long that she noticed one of the huntsmen leaving a round loaf of bread on the altar. A prayer without words or lingering.