WiPpet Wednesday: the half-arsed project from the black lagoon

Work.  Has been insane.  So much for my quiet week!  If I finally break and you guys see vague, ranty and twitchy Twitter comments, that'd be why...

Well.  More ranty.  Ranty-er?

Because I clearly need more.

Ughhhh.  I need to sit with my still-unfinished crochet on my head for a while and hide from the world.

In other news, the half-arsed project is very, very unlikely to reach 30,000 words by the end of the month, but 20,000 might just be possible (you'd think so, but see above...).  Either way, it's still more than I ever envisioned writing by hand in a month.

Don't think I can stop now though.  I ordered another two new fountain pen inks yesterday.

WiPpet Wednesday

It's Wednesday, so it's time for a WiPpet!  WiPpet Wednesday is a works-in-progress blog hop hosted by the always-awesome K. L. Schwengel, where every entry relates in some way to the date, either through simple logic or WiPpet maths.  You can find out more and visit the other posts by ambling over here.

It's the 29th June 2015, so 29/07/2015.  Today we're discarding the year entirely.  2 + 9 = 11; 1 × 1 = 1.  7 + 1 = 8, for 8 sentences, where Ais has finally got Lirio home again.  They were about to continue the Moment they'd been having last week when they received an unpleasant shock instead, one that's put Lirio on edge...

(So first-draft-y it hurts.)

Asking just how he got caught when he was usually so careful would have made being smacked in the face with a brick seem tactful, so Ais didn’t, and just hoped Lirio appreciated just how much more careful cleaning his face Ais was than when the roles were reversed.

He suspected he didn’t.

Lirio was worryingly silent throughout.  He was quiet enough normally, sure, but when something upset him he was usually very vocal about it.  Sullen silence just didn’t suit him.  He didn’t even make a peep when Ais accidentally caught a sore spot with his cleaning cloth and Ais was sure he’d at least have complained or tried to swat his hand away.

Very worrying indeed.  And he’d only done it slightly on purpose too.

Ready, Set, WRITE! - Week Eight

Ready, Set, WRITE! is a summer writing challenge hosted by Erin L. Funk, Alison Miller, Katy Upperman, Jaime Morrow and Elodie Nowodazkij as a way to encourage participants to get going on their projects and to help keep us accountable.  We share brief updates every Monday so as not to interrupt writing time with blogging.  You can find out more here or check out others' updates over at the hosts' blogs.

1. How I did on last week’s goal(s)

I'd wanted to write at least 4,000.  Unfortunately, the more time = less writing thing happened and I only ended up writing 3,262 words.  If I'd written anything yesterday I might have made it, but unfortunately work got in the way and by the time I'd finished my brain was just not interested any more.

2. My goal(s) for this week

Having missed it last week, I think setting another goal of 4,000 words this week is for the best.

And while I doubt very much I'll get to 30,000 words between now and the 31st, I'm going to at least try for 20,000 (which technically is 2,675 words away, but you never know...).

3. A favorite line from my story OR a word or phrase that sums up what I wrote/revised

Lirio let out a shaky laugh.  “I don’t know.  In some ways we did make it easier for them, whoever they are.”  He gently pressed his finger into the grey powder, leaving a clean mark beside the perpetually-empty vase—and its barely noticeable crescent where it had been replaced not-quite-perfectly.  “Think the florists have formed a militant guild targeting empty vases across the city?”

4. The biggest challenge I faced this week

Game of Thrones.  We started rewatching it from the beginning, so that's at least three hours of every evening taken up--if we're restraining ourselves.

Also, finding motivation to write.  Something seems to have been sapping it just lately.  Oh wait, that's work and the weather.  Come back heatwave, all is forgiven (mostly).

5. Something I love about my WIP

The fact my characters are still talking at me, even if it means getting lectured by a not-quite-antagonist on how I've misjudged him and how I ended up rendering a picture of the goddess of murder, on Lirio's request.  (I didn't even know one existed until he mentioned it, and now she needs a name.)

WiPpet Wednesday: return of the half-arsed project

In most respects it's been an uneventful week, with the exception of yesterday and today...  Yesterday I decided to do a factory reset on my Nexus 7, Lydia, since she's a 2012 model whose battery life became steadily more and more appalling over time and who I suspect never quite recovered from having something like 8 failed attempts at installing Android 4.4.4 (gods only know why!).  One factory reset later and we have battery life again, far fewer apps and... absolutely no saved progress in things like Temple Run.  Sigh.  There goes 60+ gems and a few million coins...

Then today my work laptop, Four, decided he didn't much like last night's Windows update.  System froze literally five minutes after booting, and again three minutes after resetting.  I've narrowed down the problems so I guess I just have to wait and see if my fixes have worked.

And then our internet went down this morning, so it's been just great today.

Other than that, still working on the Half-Arsed Project, but it's unlikely I'll get to 30,000 before the end of Camp NaNo.  I'm at 15,000 now.

Speaking of that...

WiPpet Wednesday

It's that time of the week again!  The blog hop where everyone's WIP entries relate in some way to the date, hosted by the ever-gracious and brilliant K. L. Schwengel.  Curious?  You can find out more, visit other WiPpeteers and sign up yourself over here.

It's the 22nd July 2015 today, so my maths is going to be arse-about-face.  1 + 5 = 6.  7 - 6 = 1.  2 + 1 = 3 for butchering of the year and month.  22 + 3 = 5, for 25 sentences of the half-arsed projects that one character would quite like to turn into a detective story.  Unfortunately for him he's not the main character, so we'll just ignore him.

This is the closest we've been getting to tender scenes between Ais and Lirio just lately, and follows on from an ill-judged attempt by Lirio to hunt down information in places he really shouldn't, and a somewhat less ill-judged rescue by Ais...

This, on top of everything else, was almost unbearable.  He’d spent all that time—that he hadn’t had and he knew it even then—desperately searching Siwen’s office for something that would incriminate her and exonerate Ais, and he’d found nothing but a splitting headache and a fresh opportunity for her to make him suffer.

“Lirio?”  Ais asked softly.

“What is it?”  Because he’d better have found something, or—

“What did you mean, ‘because of me’?”

He hesitated, swallowing a couple of times.  “I needed her to think you were off-guard.  You needed her to think that.  Or that mobile mountain in the room with us...”

Ais snorted.  “He wasn’t that big.”

“Maybe not when you’re facing him or standing up,” he said bitterly.

One of Ais’ most irritating qualities was how few strides it took him to quickly cover ground; one of his most endearing qualities—not that Lirio would tell him and run the risk of him becoming big-headed—was how inexplicably comforting his arms were when they wrapped around Lirio’s shoulders.  “I should have got there sooner,” he mumbled into Lirio’s hair.  “I shouldn’t have let you go in alone.”

Guilt wasn’t a feeling Lirio was particularly accustomed to, and it certainly wasn’t one he enjoyed.  He should pull away from Ais, say something blunt to remind him he could barely protect himself, let alone Lirio.

He covered Ais’ arms with his own and allowed his eyes to close, savouring the feeling of his breath against his hair.  “You weren’t to know,” he said softly.  “Don’t worry.”

For once, Ais said nothing.  The fingers gently cupping Lirio’s shoulders squeezed gently.

“Well isn’t this the most disgustingly touching scene,” a sneering voice sheared through their reverie.  “I’d be sick but I wouldn’t want to ruin any evidence any more than you already have.”

Ready, Set, WRITE! - Week Seven

Ready, Set, WRITE! is a summer writing challenge hosted by Erin L. Funk, Alison Miller, Katy Upperman, Jaime Morrow and Elodie Nowodazkij as a way to encourage participants to get going on their projects and to help keep us accountable.  We share brief updates every Monday so as not to interrupt writing time with blogging.  You can find out more here or check out others' updates over at the hosts' blogs.

1. How I did on last week’s goal(s)

Again, much better than expected.  ...Sort of.  Although I'm not quite sure how it happened, I managed to finish off the week having written a grand total of 6,873 words--which is great, although I still don't know how handwriting it makes me write more than typing does--but I still have absolutely no idea whatsoever about the plot.

Considering I'm now at 13,849 words into it... might need one soon!

(Week seven??  Already??)

2. My goal(s) for this week

Plot.  Please?

Also, I'm going to try sneaking up on it again.  Last week's goal was 3,000 words or more, so this week's goal is 4,000 or more.  (Still working on the "more time = less writing" scenario.)

3. A favorite line from my story OR a word or phrase that sums up what I wrote/revised

For a moment Lirio kissed back just as fiercely, then bit hard on Ais’ lower lip.  “Why are you here?”

“Mounting a dramatic and daring rescue, of course.”  It was a good thing he was already used to the sting from his split lip.

Lirio’s smile lacked any actual humour.  “Of course.”  He nodded first to Siwen, then in the general direction of the figure Ais had clocked earlier.  “And you were planning on doing that how?”

“Oh you know, the usual.  Charm and wit, that sort of thing.”

“Great,” Lirio said, his smile widening.  “I’m doomed.”

4. The biggest challenge I faced this week

The heat.  It's not so bad anywhere except where I write.  Oh, and the cat--the one whose chair I fell asleep in?  He's been getting his revenge by leaping onto my notebook and scooting across the table on it.  It's also a prime sitting or sleeping spot... while I'm writing.

5. Something I love about my WIP

Against all the odds I actually like the dorky idiots that are Ais and Lirio.  I really didn't expect that when I started writing.

I also love that I'm finally getting a lot more use out of my fountain pen and ink collections!

WiPpet Wednesday: revenge of the half-arsed project

Still plugging away at Camp NaNo.  I'm 8,737 words into a story I have no idea about while my characters search for both the plot and the Thing (that I have a vague notion is large, round and flat and does something bad), and are doing pretty damn badly at finding both...

To be fair to absolutely nobody, my entire cabin (which is to say, two other writers) is making much the same kind of progress as me.  Turns out handwriting these things is bloody awkward.  This is what I get for spending over half my life in front of computers...

I don't even know how I'm almost 9,000 words in.  It certainly doesn't feel like it.

WiPpet Wednesday

It's the most stealthy day of the week, the one I always fail to see coming...  WiPpet Wednesday is a blog hop run by the ever-awesome K. L. Schwengel, and a blog hop with a twist: every post relates in some way to the date!  If you want to find out more (and you should~), you can find more information and others' posts over at the inlinkz page.

Today's maths was... pretty simple, I thought, when I worked it out?  It's the 15th June 2015, so I added 1+5 to make 6, added it to the month (7) for 13, then for I added 2+0+1 to make 3, and removed that 3 from the 5 for 2, and added that to the 13 to make 15 for 15 (quite short) paragraphs...

And then I realised it's the 15th today and that would have done perfectly well by itself.

Still on the half-arsed project, and I'm concluding the one with the real sense of humour here is Ais.  Lirio has (sort of) freed Ais, taken him to see the boss (a l'il bit of that was posted on Monday) and now, quite a lot later, they're home again.

And still bickering.

For all his stubbornness and the way he took great care to make sure cleaning Ais’ face hurt, Lirio wasn’t hard to persuade to bed.  “Ten minutes,” he’d grumbled, allowing Ais to pull off his shirt and pull him into his arms on the bed, but when fifteen had passed and he was sound asleep with his head on Ais’ shoulder, Ais didn’t have the heart to wake him.  And with Lirio’s rhythmic breathing against him, he could hardly be blamed for dozing off himself, could he?

So it wasn’t particularly fair to be woken up by a punch to the arm so hard his fingers immediately went numb.  “Hey!”

“Have you got any idea what time it is?”  Lirio yelled at almost deafening volume into Ais’ ear.  “What the hells did you think you were doing?”

“Exactly the same thing you were.  Sleeping.”

Lirio stared at him like he was crazy, and for so long he started to wonder if he was.  “So everything you said about wanting a week, how you could find information—when did you plan to start?  When you only had one day left?”

“No...”  Ais found himself squirming under Lirio’s incredulity.  By all the sea gods he could think of, the man was a head shorter than him, he shouldn’t be able to make him so nervous.  But then, Lirio was the scarier one here.  “But a few hours’ delay can’t hurt, can it?  You said yourself you’ve had no sleep and I was busy getting beaten up.”

Lirio sniffed in the most derisive way Ais had ever heard a sniff be sniffed.  “You didn’t even know what day it was.  You slept through most of it.”

“Doesn’t mean it was comfortable,” Ais huffed, twisting to show off to Lirio the bruises mottling his torso, and froze at the sight of Lirio’s flat belly.  “What’s that?”

Lirio glanced down, mouth open to no doubt complain again, then clacked it shut and yanked the sheet up, like he thought covering the fist-sized bruise smack in the middle of his belly would make Ais immediately forget it existed.

It didn’t.  “Lirio, what happened in that meeting?”

“I told you.  Nothing.”

“You also told me you didn’t want to talk about it, and that doesn’t sound—or look—like nothing to me.”

Lirio sighed a long-suffering sigh, but Ais felt him lean fractionally away.  “It’s a reminder.”

When it seemed like a polite silence might be too subtle, Ais prompted, “of?”

This time the sigh was softer and more heartfelt.  “Of what will happen if I bring you back empty-handed at the end of the week.”

Ready, Set, WRITE! - Week Six

Ready, Set, WRITE! is a summer writing challenge hosted by Erin L. Funk, Alison Miller, Katy Upperman, Jaime Morrow and Elodie Nowodazkij as a way to encourage participants to get going on their projects and to help keep us accountable.  We share brief updates every Monday so as not to interrupt writing time with blogging.  You can find out more here or check out others' updates over at the hosts' blogs.

1. How I did on last week’s goal(s)

I had one simple goal (and one not so simple one): handwrite 2,000 words or more, and discover the plot.  Considering how I failed before and how last week had more work hours than the one before it... I was pretty surprised to find last night I've written 5,681 words this week.

Still not discovered the plot, though I do know a bit of backstory now, so that's something.

2. My goal(s) for this week

My working week is considerably freer than last week, which probably means I'll end up doing less writing.  (It usually does.)  So I'm going to set a slightly higher goal that matches the last few weeks: 3,000 words.

And I'd still like to discover the plot, or at least find out what the thing is and why it's needed.

3. A favorite line from my story OR a word or phrase that sums up what I wrote/revised

“You really don’t listen, do you?”  Ais had heard about voices cutting through things like knives, but this was the first time he’d experienced it.  “Are you incapable of doing what you’re told?”

“Yes.”  Wait, this time, honesty was as likely to get him into trouble as dishonesty had with Lirio.  “I mean, no, but I’m just trying to put right my mistake.  You can’t blame me for it, can you?”

The boss rubbed his temples between thumb and forefinger in a way that uncomfortably reminded Ais of Lirio.  “No.  I can’t blame you for it.  I can, however, blame you for being stubborn and stupid, but perhaps that’s a side effect of the company you keep.”

Ais glanced over his shoulder again, but instead of seeming angry even if he was masking it, Lirio seemed totally unfussed, like being called stupid was an everyday occurrence for him.

Ais suddenly decided he didn’t much like the boss.

4. The biggest challenge I faced this week

Work, as ever.  And the fact that the further through the week I got, the more tired I was, until I accidentally lost precious writing time on Friday by falling asleep in a chair in the conservatory...

The cat wasn't impressed: it was 'his' chair I fell asleep in.

5. Something I love about my WIP

Ais is a big dumb puppy and Lirio is a spiky little cat, and I didn't know that about either of them until I just sat down and started writing.

Oh, and I've been writing every day in different colour ink, so I've blocks of text in orange, blue, red, navy, green...  It's the most cheerfully-coloured story I've ever written.

WiPpet Wednesday: a totally half-arsed project

I'm not being facetious either: it's Camp NaNo and I was woefully unprepared.  I didn't write anything at all the first day, because I didn't know which project to work on and as our small cabin is handwriting our stories I didn't want to start writing anything I was already mid-type.

So I sat down on the second day and just started writing, and it turned out I was writing about Lirio and Ais, who first turned up under L is for Lirio in the A-Z Challenge.  There even seems to be a plot, though it's being a little stubborn at making itself fully known, which involves a thing that Ais should have fetched that is now missing.

Would love to know what the thing is though...

So, yep.  This month is now given over to a project I am not just winging, but am pantsing in ways I haven't pantsed for years.

WiPpet Wednesday

WiPpet Wednesday is a blog hop hosted by the lovely K. L. Schwengel, where participants share snippets from their WIPs with just one twist: the excerpt must in some way relate to the date, either through simple means or fancy maths.  You can read more (well worth it) and find out more over here.

Last week we left Fayth with the bombshell that RQ is going to be executed as he has outlived his usefulness.

This week, we're going to still leave him there, because you're getting something from this barely-even-first-draft WIP instead.  Mostly because half-arsed though it may be, I'm having a lot of fun with it, and it turns out I rather like Lirio and Ais (though I'm not sure the feeling is mutual).

Today is the 8th July 2015 (8/7/2015), so today's maths goes as follows: 2+0+1+5 = 8 - 7 = 1.  1 + 8 = 9 for nine paragraphs from the first section.  And don't worry when I say "9 paragraphs": handwriting everything means most paragraphs are very short...

He did his best to glower at him through his remaining good eye, but from the widening of the smirk the whole effect was spoiled by his bruised face and black eye.  “I won’t.”

“You’ve found your voice?”  The leader asked, amusement positively dripping from every word.  “We’re making progress already.  It won’t be long before you’re singing pretty songs and eating out the palm of my hand.  Maybe even literally.  I’d enjoy that.”

His eyes widened in horror—at the exact same moment the leader’s did.  When he toppled backwards, rapidly followed by his accomplice, it was with the same stupid, shocked expression.

One he wore himself as a voice, a familiar voice, growled out, “only thing you’ll enjoy is a splitting headache, dick.”

That voice.  He knew that voice like the back of his foot—like the back of his hand but marginally less familiar.  But it couldn’t be, because that would just be wrong.  It would turn the world on its head.  And worst of all, it would totally blow his cover.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he wouldn’t recognise him.

“Ais?”  So much for that.  “Ais, is that you?  What’re you doing here?”

He turned a bloody smile up at his lover.  Well.  Probably ex-lover now.  “Lirio.  Never expected to see you here.”  After all, how much worse could it get?

From the pursing of Lirio’s lips and the way his fingers twitched for the knives at his belt, probably much, much worse.

Ready, Set, WRITE! - Week Five

Ready, Set, WRITE! is a summer writing challenge hosted by Erin L. Funk, Alison Miller, Katy Upperman, Jaime Morrow and Elodie Nowodazkij as a way to encourage participants to get going on their projects and to help keep us accountable.  We share brief updates every Monday so as not to interrupt writing time with blogging.  You can find out more here or check out others' updates over at the hosts' blogs.

1. How I did on last week’s goal(s)

Dear gods.  That's... really all I can say.  I failed on every single target: instead of at least 3k, I managed 1,437—I know it's 1,437 I didn't have before, but I'm still disappointed in myself—I still haven't finished G is for Gabrys, I've not touched RoK at all and, insult to injury, I'm only on page 136 of Ace of Skulls.

So that's a total fail.

2. My goal(s) for this week

Well...  I'd actually forgotten until it was on me that I'd decided to do Camp NaNo and, worse, I was going to handwrite it.  There's three of us doing it so it's not just me who's taken leave of their senses, but you'd have thought I'd remember, right?

So my goal is to basically manage at least 2,000 words, all handwritten, on this new project.  I'd also ideally like to discover the plot.

3. A favorite line from my story OR a word or phrase that sums up what I wrote/revised

“Where’s the thing?”

“What thing?”

If Ais thought he couldn’t see through his false innocence, he really didn’t know Lirio at all. “The thing,” he said drily, “that got you half beaten to a pulp.  That thing.”

“That’s the, er, thing.  As I was trying to explain to those nice gentlemen just now, I don’t have the thing.  I am distinctly without thing.”

“You’re distinctly without something, that’s for sure.”  Lirio pressed his thumb and forefinger to his temples and failed to suppress a sigh.  “Apparently that thing is a sense of preservation.”

4. The biggest challenge I faced this week

Shortly before the start of last week, my work schedule suddenly had a bunch more hours on it and several shifts rearranged.  The upshot was that I finished up with 40 hours, starting at 6:30am most mornings, and some very unpleasant shifts too (that aren't the 6:30 ones, which I do actually enjoy aside from the 6:30 thing).  What time I've had left for writing has been mostly spent trying not to think about work, and Saturday was spent in the city with friends.

5. Something I love about my WIP

There appears to be a sense of humour in this new project.  I'm not sure where it came from, or why once I start handwriting people become more sarcastic, but it's amusing me...

Also, I seem to keep ending up writing "Ais' face" or variations thereon without realising it, which probably shouldn't be as funny as I'm finding it.

*melts* ... WiPpet Wednesday

Lately, the days have been blending together until I can't work out what actual day of the week it is.  I've had to rely on HabitRPG telling me, since I have Dailies set up for RSW and WW.

And to add insult to injury, it's too hot.  I mean, this is England.  It's not supposed to be hot.

Lastly, it's also the start of Camp NaNo, which I and a couple of others are trying to entirely hand-write.  ...I have no idea what I'm writing.  I've barely even made progress with my RSW projects this week.

I think I'm just going to melt into a puddle and slime away.

WiPpet Wednesday

WiPpet Wednesday is a weekly blog-hop hosted by our gracious ...host... K. L. Schwengel where participants share excerpts from their Works in Progress that in some way relate to the date, either via simple maths (like 20 sentences for the 20th) or somewhat less simple maths such as dividing the date by the month for 4 paragraphs.  You can find out more, read other participants' entries and join in yourself here.

Ahh, WiPpet Maths in order to get my way...  Today is the 1st July 2015 - 01-07-2015 - so today we're going for 7 × 2 = 14. 1 - 1 = 0.  14 + 0 + 5 = 19, for 19 paragraphs.  (Don't worry, they're mostly pretty short.)

So, last week Fayth handed RQ over and had some very badly phrased thoughts about RQ that neglected a lot of things, including that he was born on a planet and RQ very likely wasn't, and finished off with a vague sense of anti-climax.  Now he's got no idea what to do with himself...  (Also, profanity warning.)

There was a small open-fronted café near the docking bays and while Fayth hadn’t exactly been allowed to stop for a meal there, no one had exactly said he couldn’t either. The thought of going back to his empty ship, where one room smelled very faintly of a stranger, was distinctly unappealing. Putting it off was futile. Childish. Fayth pushed a forkful of cream cake around his plate and decided he didn’t really care.

It wasn’t even a nice cream cake, to add insult to injury. The cream tasted awful; not a surprise, considering it was almost exactly the same as liquefied nutrient mash, and that stuff tasted like shit even when it was flavoured. This tasted like someone had forgotten the flavour.

A shadow fell across him. Fayth didn’t even bother looking up.

“This seat taken?”

The voice was soft, familiar. Fayth glanced up from under his lashes, and the spark of hope in his chest was extinguished by the face of the crewman he’d asked directions from. He looked pointedly around at the scattered tables and chairs, all empty, and returned his attention to the half-eaten cake. “Knock yourself out.” 

The chair scraped back loud enough to make Fayth wince as the crewman sat opposite, regarding Fayth’s cake with a distinctly despondent expression. “They’re still selling that?”

“Apparently so.”

“Damn.” He stared at the cake a little longer, then gave Fayth a carefully appraising look. “We’re all impressed that you could bring RQ back, you know. The Powers That Be tried looking for him after the break-in, but no joy.”

Fayth grunted. “It’s what I’m paid for.”

“He looked so well too. After how they took him, we all kinda thought... well, we didn’t think he’d be coming back.” He continued to stare morosely at Fayth’s cake.

Fayth shoved it towards the crewman. “Have it.”

The plate came back towards him with indecent haste. “Hell no!”

Well, he couldn’t blame him for it. Fayth himself was increasingly regretting his decision to buy it but a quick look around the café revealed it to still be deserted and therefore devoid of anyone else he could fob it off onto.

The crewman sighed, looking from the cake to the empty counter where staff should have been, but had clearly decided a deserted café wasn’t worth sticking around for, then pulled the cake back over again. “Might as well. Shame you went to all that effort for nothing though.”

Swallowing, Fayth took a deep breath and tried to ignore the way his heart started hammering fit to break free. “Nothing?”

“Yeah. They said there’s no further use for him, so he’s scheduled for execution.” The crewman dipped his finger into the cream. His grimace made it obvious he felt the same way about the taste.

Fayth didn’t notice. “...What?”

The crewman’s eyes flicked up to Fayth again. He paled. “Oh fuck, you weren’t supposed to know, were you? I just—forget I said anything. I—”

His words broke off at the pressure of the fork’s points against his jugular. Nose inches from his horrified face, Fayth snarled down at him, “find me a gun, before I really lose my temper.”