this lj-cut thing on rich text editor is f'ing infuriating. To hell with it!

So, this is the project that I'm working on with Lannie at the moment. It's set in a slightly futuristic England (which won't actually be named all that often), and it's heavily influenced by V for Vendetta, and other movies (like 300, oddly enough ;) ). I don't know who is going to post it and where, but I just wanted to let you all know that Lannie and I are now on 6299 words. Already :D

ok, so at some point during this year I'm going to write:

a. The bot-plot with Charlie 28-Jericho.

b. The telepath plot with Hard Luck the pilot, Durand and his still nameless wife, and a love interest with a hero complex. I like hero complexes.

c. The Jade-empire inspired plot which is way too epic for me to write.

So... which one?

(and this is aside from Red hell, etc. Maybe even for nano...)

Finally did a short story revolving around Ruiz :D this thing has been in my head for ages. it was fun to write, even if it's very odd to write Ruiz from a first person point of view.

( Knowledge of the heart )

or at least, chapters etc.

Part I : Echoes

Prelude
Chapter 1 : Through the glass
Chapter 2 : Sleepless

Part II : Release

Chapter 3 : The lucky few
Chapter 4 : Game time

Part III : Remedies

Chapter 5 : Old School
Chapter 6 : A permanent solution

Part IV : Judgement

Chapter 7 : Reckoning
Chapter 8 : Father figure

Part V : Surprise

Chapter 9 : A surprise to remember
Chapter 10 : The hunter

Part VI : Resonance

Chapter 11 : The last remaining light.
Chapter 12 : Re-connect.


Are we there yet? :D

I'm writing several sidestories to get in the mood for Resonance some more. And to practice my violence, of course ;)

The first sidestory brings us Logan Falk, Sniper and champion of the European League, on a rainy day.

( Read more... )

So I’ve been pondering on plot like things, because this seems to be the time for it. Actually, I arrived at that stage where I find myself zoning out, staring in the distance, and mumbling vague things that characters might say in certain situations. Fortunately, this only happens when I’m in the shower so far, so the only thing I get out of it is a bit of inspiration, and prune-like skin.

Anyway, plots. November is nigh! Ok, not really, but the point is… It’s only a few months away! *runs around in a frantic like manner* So naturally there are plots to be had, which will then all be discarded in favour of something vague, which I will then overplot, and kill because I wrote too many words in one day. I wonder if I should finish SenseLess. Coherent, me? Never. Never I tell you!!

Plots!

Must stay focussed on the plots. Or sleep… no, plots!

On one hand we have Resonance, which has a fairly strong pull. I liked writing Resonance because it had interesting characters, but I should have given Valentina a first person perspective from the start. Which then would have made me mourn the loss of my other wonderful characters, but I think I know a way around that. Italics are good for a reason, and I can have the third person perspective, or even a god-perspective every now and then, especially among the kill moments. But what to do with the Lannie plotline? I like the Lannie plotline, and I would’ve liked it even if it hadn’t been based on… er… Lannie. It just has a lot of potential, and I like the ‘jaded killer’ vs. ‘n00b’ thing a lot. So maybe I’ll keep the Lannie storyline in. Maybe even do the Tijs thing and switch letter types. Hrrm. Yes. Appealing. Would need to work on the storyline again. Scratch some characters, make some new ones. I definitely can’t go around killing my former classmates anymore. That would mean I’m still angry and frustrated with them, which I’m not. Wanting to punch someone in the face is not the same as being angry and frustrated.

But on the other hand, we have the bot story, and that’s the one that’s been tickling me lately. I just really, really, really love Charlie’s voice. You know, most of the times when I make a character and she’s female, she starts out as a Mary Sue-ish version of me. Write what you know and all that. I think up the original ‘quest’ with me in mind as the main character. Then I look for a name for the main character, and as soon as she’s named, she’s no longer me. Layla only spent a very, very short time being me, because she was always more of a blonde. Valentina definitely started out as me (come on, me with big guns, I thought it was funny) but then she got a name and a face, and suddenly she could do things that I couldn’t and vice versa, and the story changed. Charlie was never me. Charlie was Charlie from day one, and maybe that’s why I don’t know her story yet. But her voice is amazing. The only real reasons why this story appeals to me are two scenes that I had in my head when I thought of Charlie. The final scene, which comes before the epilogue (and the epilogue would be pretty important here) is just… amazing. Or it was amazing at least, when I thought of it. I loved it lots, and it deserves to be written down. Charlie deserves attention. But so does Valentina.

Which do I pick? They both have their appeal. The only thing holding me back from Charlie’s story right now is that I don’t know her story yet. Well, ok, and the fact that I’d have to do a lot of research, because it’ll be sci-fi and far future, and somehow that sounds like a lot of research. Then again, Resonance requires research too, and is also in the future, only in the near(er) future, so maybe that means it requires even more research. All in all I kind of feel like writing again, which is a good thing, because I hadn’t really felt like it since shooting my muse through the head with that 13k day last November. I am never going to do that again. I think. Definitely not. No more 8k+ days. 8k is enough to fry any sane brain on it’s own.

Once…

It had been so sudden. Somehow I had always expected that there would be some kind of warning. Something to tell us that it would happen now. There was no warning. From one moment to the next the tension that had been steadily increasing burst into an insane rage. War… After the last one everyone agreed that it could never happen again, and yet… here we were.

After the first attack I’d spent ours just getting the wounded to places they could be helped. The small infirmary was nowhere near adequate, so we used the mess hall. Tables that we’d sat by hours ago, playing cards. I vividly remembered my last hand before the first missile shook the building. It hadn’t been any good, but I yearned to play it out. And another one after that. Maybe one more, while sipping on a beer, doing my best to avoid the occasional glances from my partner, while he was doing the best to avoid mine. Our little problems seemed insignificant now, as he was out there, chasing the last of our attackers back to their own base, and I was here, carrying the last of the wounded inside.

Every muscle in my body ached from the strain. The battle had been over swiftly, the fighting passionate, burning out swiftly. None of it resembled the patterns we learned. Tactics be damned, this was life we were talking about, and we’d be damned if we’d let them overwhelm us like this. It had been close. So many dead. I’d seen familiar faces, eyes open with a look of pure shock on their faces. No one expected war. No one expected to die, and I imagined it would indeed be a shock if it did happen.

The faces of the people that bustled around weren’t much better to look at. Little cuts and bruises, smears of ash and blood and a look of pure hopelessness that was reflected everywhere. I imagined I looked the same. I wondered how many of those I had brought in would never make it out again. Friends of mine, who’d never see another day. I refused to think of him, and what life would look like without our careful glances. I dragged myself back to the entrance hall, not wanting to face the carnage again, and yet feeling an undeniable pressure to go back, and stare at it. Call it atonement for not dying myself.

A hand clasped my shoulder and I turned, my hand fumbling for the side-arm I’d left behind hours ago, ready to tear a chunk out of the son of a bitch who tried something. I must’ve looked fierce, hatred shining bright in my eyes for he stepped back. My partner. The one who had already died a hundred painful deaths in my mind. I let out a small laugh, that sounded more like the cross between a choke and a sob. He was still in his battle gear, covered in the same murk that I was, possibly even more.

That very moment I was so glad that he was alive. So close to stepping forward and embracing him. It was too much. Took too long. There was just enough time for me to feel disgusted with myself for living, while people with families had died. How many orphans… I shook my head, trying to focus on his words. He asked me if I was alright, and I almost laughed again. What kind of a question was that? Everything was lost now, without warning, and there was no way we could ever get it all back. I nodded though, pressing my lips together to prevent those words from escaping. I was sure he’d lost friends too, this night.

Somehow I found myself walking down the hall, towards the barracks. His hand was on my shoulder, steering me. He said something about it being enough, and I could only agree. I’d bloody well had enough of everything at that point. His hand was a comforting weight, and I hated the fact that I needed it. That I was so close to falling apart, and that it was this obvious. He led me though, silently, his face unseen because he was behind me and while I yearned to see it, it would mean I had to turn around, and admit that I wanted nothing more. I wasn’t ready for it.

Moments later, or perhaps hours later I sat down on my bunk, finally looking at him and not hearing a word he said. Something about things not being as bad as they looked. Survivors. Chased them off. I nodded, the weariness in my body taking over now that I was sitting on my own bed. I could feel his eyes on me even when mine were closed. The time for careful glances seemed to be over. As I opened my eyes again I saw that he’d turned. He was looking at the bunk of one of our friends. The realisation that I’d seen his face, pointing towards the sky with his eyes open no more than an hour ago. He wasn’t going to occupy it anymore. I wondered if he had family that would mourn him.

A loneliness so deep it almost choked me filled me, and I focussed on his back, as if it could offer me the answers to my questions. He turned slightly, looking at the door. He muttered something about having more work to do. I found my mouth forming the words ‘please stay’, but they were silent, and with his back to me there was no way he could see my request. It was a selfish request anyway. Others needed his help more now.

His shoulders were stiff as I watched him, just standing there with his back to me, not moving aside from the trembling of his hands. Finally he turned, the look on his face similar to mine. “You’ll be here when I get back, right?” he asked, his voice small somehow. I nodded, a wry smile curving my lips. “I’ll be here.” His shoulders slumped slightly, as if the day was finally starting to weigh too heavy. When I looked at his face again, he was smiling ever so slightly. “Save some hot water for me, will you?” I smiled then, sincerely for the first time that day and night. “I promise.” It felt like more than just a promise for hot water. It felt like I promised that I would be there, and that he would come back. It was a good thing, and good things were hard to be found, at the beginning of what we hoped would be the shortest war ever.

Title of the day: Before the tide

( silly vampire story )

first title:

'What did we just do?!'

( Read more... )

...
righto

50,227 / 50,000 (100.5%)

crazy in the coconut...

most of this chapter was written today, so if it's mildly coherent it's because I've written 10 k today, and I plan to write at least 2.6 more.

( Read more... )

45,020 / 50,000 (90.0%)

argh.

must write more.

so long it needs to be cut in 2

( Read more... )

finally

( Pick a Number )