Posted By onefinemess on December 5, 2013
So I did the bit with the nano and the wrimo this year, for the first time. Maybe the last, we’ll see. It was a lot of work and focus… and I didn’t actually “finish” a novel, which is a little frustrating.
However, I did “finish” the word count challenge that is Nanowrimo. The goal was 50k words over the course of November, and ended up at about 60.5kish. A clear win. *spikes scroll into hardwood floors* I think I have about 4 chapters left to write… so somewhere between 8,000 and 20,000 words to go. I’m TRYING to continue the pattern and continue writing every single day at the same time (about 830-10pm) until I finish. That’s MY nanowrimo. So far, I’m keeping it up. I’ve backed off on the pace a bit – my goal for now is just one scene a night, and that’s been about 800-1400 words a night. Not too shabby!
One thing I learned: I can write with kids about – kind of. This is a Big Deal (TM). I was able to do this years ago (when Z was little) but generally it just feels so difficult with the kids smashing and mucking about. I had to find just the right time spot – I take R up to bed and let him fall asleep on my bed while I get warmed up (and the other two boys yell at each other in the bedroom below until one of them falls asleep. I EXAGGERATE. A little.).
So what did I write about?
I made myself start a new project.
I had a list of possible options. I picked one, more at less at random – but one I happened to have a general “feel” for where the story went.
The pitch/query would be something like this (sans all fine tuning, because, who cares? Seriously, this shit is ROUGH. But you’ll get the idea…):
The gods and heroes of Light are all dead. Only a few angels remain to mourn them and delay the inevitable. The Light is fading, and everyone knows it.
Fick is an urchin, escaped temple slave, robber and frequent murderer. All in all, a rather mundane existence for a dweller in Darkness. When a goddess interrupts him mid mugging and bids him steal a magical dagger from his former temple, then sends him out from what he thought was the whole world to infiltrate a city he didn’t even know existed and kill the most pious person there well, things get confusing. Fast.
Confronted with a place and a people not borne in violent depravity, ever clawing their way to the top of biggest shit pile, what’s a killer to do? And how is he to determine who is the most pious when piety itself isn’t a predictable conflux of abuse, death and suffering? Not to mention the hats are all different. Gods like funny hats. And what if he finds something he never knew he wanted (of course he will!), that would complicate things, right?
There’s an angel too. She mostly just hovers over the city and watches. Not very helpful. Kind of frustrating actually.
FICK THE FECKLESS is a fantasy novel about fighting evil with evil when the spine has long since drained out of good.
Dark stuff. Perhaps darker than what I’ve written thus far? It’s hard to say, as my mind seems to go to some dark places, more or less unbidden. Maybe I shouldn’t take the chains off so often? Cthulu, holla!
Another thing I learned: my brain is weird. As I started writing this – in fact, almost immediately – the main character started talking to the narrator. What’s up with that? I just went with it. What else can you do?