Doubtful Drafts.

It's a very odd sensation, going from first-draft writing -- where quantity presides over quality -- back to third-draft writing, where the point of it is to do it right this time. And, I have to say, it's proven to be quite tricky.

I'm not going to lie -- I'm super pleased with what I had of my third-draft pre-NaNo, but realising that I have to go back to working like that to produce those words filled me with a certain kind of nervousness that I hadn't felt before. I was honestly starting to doubt that I could keep up with myself.

This nervousness, coupled wih taking two days off for the holidays, crippled me for what felt like ages (although was actually only most of a day). The words just wouldn't fall right and the physics of the story was falling to pieces in protest of it neglect (A butterknife piercing a hardwood table, that's all you need to know!) Everything felt trite and dull, and my sentences and PoV were boring as hell. It was unbearable and I was doomed.

Then I had a walk and a bath and, at ten pm, inspiration struck. It was the coveted bolt of lightening, and it struck me hard. So hard, in fact, that the momentum of that energy has carried me well through today. As it stands, I have done 2,000 today (the most of this draft that I've done since putting it down on October 31st) and it's coming as well as it did then.

I am so so inordinately relieved.

It really is delightful, going back to this kind of draft, where every word is carefully picked and placed for the perfect effect. It's really feeling like a composition than words on a page, as the first drafts did, and I can finally take pleasure in the craft of writing again.

That's what subsequent drafts are for, I think -- pleasure of writing. First drafts are for the pleasure of the story, but it's later ones that really let you stretch your wings. I love it.

Createspace and Contemplation.

Alright, there we go. The books are ordered! Had to submit a couple of times, frustratingly, due to formatting cock-up, but I'm glad I took the time to look through page-by-page because I would've kicked myself if they'd come back like that! 

But we got there, and there it is -- NaNoWriMo 2014 is officially finished. 

I can't believe it's only been an month and two-thirds, I feel like so much has happened in what amounts to 52 days! 

Today I had a read through of what I've got of Book One and went for a walk with my thoughts, trying to get back in the head-space ready for continuation, and I've started re-plotting again. I've got the same nervous-excitement in my stomach as though I'm starting from scratch. I feel like writing the sequels has given me good perspective on it, though? Baah I'm scared XD 

In other news we finally finally got our promised 'story' from J.K centering on Draco and... well... predictable, I think is the kindest word. I was interested to read that he was tight friends with Goyle and Theo Nott pre-Hogwarts, but Crabbe was a later addition to the clique. But, tbh, that was really that got my fanfiction wheels whirring. It was basically a re-cap of the seven books plus a perplexed admonishment directed at female Draco-fans. It left me pretty mad actually, and solidified my thoughts that I love the Potter-verse desperately purely because she left SO so much to the imagination, not because she's a good writer with interesting characterizations. It's pretty tragic, actually, how black and white she sees it all when the majority of her fans have brought colour to her creation. And you'd think, with all these years to think about it... I don't know. It's too predictable to be disappointing. 

I'm content with my head-canon Draco, I don't think anything official at this point will put a dent in that. 

The only thing left to do is tweak the ending. It's going to take twenty minutes, max. But I don't wanna. All I want to do is scroll mindlessly through tumblr and feel cross that the new Draco 'story' that J.K promised isn't up yet. It's going to be terrible and nothing we don't already know but I want it so bad!! And I don't want to finish my novel. I hate finishing things. Blergh.

Revision Update

I am currently on page 294 of 397, and it's going well. Not being able to justify the nice fluffy ending I had finished with on the fifteenth, I spent the 16th talking it through with a writing-buddy and came up with a thousand words of rip-your-heart-out-and-shove-it-down-your-throat angst which feels much more natural to end Dragons on. 

Reading through has, so far, been much less excruciating than I had expected it to be. The further in I get, though, the more nervous I become. I certainly understand why people advise letting the MS rest before tackling it. It's much more pleasant to read with fresh, reader's eyes than re-visit the words you wrote only a matter of days ago. Still, it's not as bad as I expected it to be. And I'm trying to keep reminding myself that I wrote two novels in a month and a half so what can I really expect? 

Ugh! I'm itching to continue the story, though, but I really need to get back to Book 1. I think I'm going to hand-sketch Book 4, just dabble with it casually whilst I'm writing 'Moon Path'. My concrete goal for 2015 is to start querying so I really need a finished manuscript ASAP. 

Today it is beautiful and snowing, and I've done all my xmas shopping (how is it only a week 'til xmas???) so I think I'll count this as a good day :) Hopefully I'll finish up revision tomorrow so I can order my Createspace copies. Waah! I'm so excited to see it in print!! 

Here's what I'm listening to today -- Fall Out Boy & Taylor Swift: My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark, Live. Supreme.

I did it.

15th November -- 15th December.

It feels good.

Pre-Post Jitters

5,000 words to go and I'm getting pre-finish jitters, a weird combination of manic excitement and abject terror. It's the best feeling in the world! Well, one of them.

I'm pretty sure I'll be able to condense 'Guilders' and 'Dragons' down into one, so I'm feeling better about not exactly really finishing-finishing the story. The problem with pantsing is that you end up learning a whole bunch more than you expected to and to do it justice, it really needs more words. I'm getting really excited about cutting it down and focusing it more. Doing that really did wonders with 'Moon Path', so I think that'll be the way to go. 

Yesterday I did 0 words, but I've made up for it today by getting in 3,000 pretty easily. Had a little bit of a a hiccup, but only about 500 words of one so it wasn't too bad. I've come to realize, though, that I really do need to sort out my place name because, well, I don't have any. People names are hard enough, but place names are impossible! The problem with putting off things 'til later is that later never really comes... I did that with surnames and look where that got me!

I also need to focus Aurelia. She's become completely unsympathetic and that's not her purpose at all. Whenever I put her into a scene, she just ends up arguing with everyone. I'm writing way too personally with her and I know I'm going to have to back off and be more objective in the re-write. God, it feels good to get it out though! It's freaking me out a bit how much of myself I've been putting into the story recently, but revision will bring focus and objectivity so I'm not worrying too much. 

Following my good writing morning/afternoon, I'm spending the evening rewarding myself by formatting what I've got and making it pretty. I can't wait to see it in print!

Oh.

It just struck me that in about a week (possibly less) I'll have written two novels in a month and a half.

Oh.

Art, Progress and The Hobbit

Apologies for the lack of updates, it's been a busy couple of days. Tricksy scenes are like buses, they all come at once and then it just gets ridiculous. I'm happy with the scenes individually but, once again, crisis of confidence has struck and I'm feeling paralyzed. Who am I kidding? This isn't going anywhere. It's boring and whiny and full of plot-holes -- oh god! the plot holes! I can't keep anyone's attention with it. It's like an ugly child whose mother thinks it's gorgeous but the whole world knows better. 

*headdesk*

*I* like it, but I'm feeling delusional,

In other, happier news, Hragon from NaNo did some sketches of Dakin for me and I'm super pleased! It's always nerve-wracking asking for art, but I've admired their work for a while and was not disappointed!

Also, we got preview tickets to see The Hobbit today and... well... It's worth seeing but I laughed more than I cried. It was no Lord of the Rings.

Eagles what?

A Good Day

Today was a good day, writing-wise and personally. Made big steps in my visa application and didn't have a panic-attack when I checked by bank-account. I feel like I can breathe again. 

Writing was slow but good. It was one of those scenes that needed to be maneuvered carefully and revised a couple of times to get right, but I'm very pleased with the end product. The characters have done what they needed to do and stayed true to character, which was particularly tricky today. Very much a matter of compromise. I am both excited and terrified of my writing schedule for tomorrow. I'm giving myself the evening off to just think about it. Once I've got past this point, the rest should come pretty smoothly (maybe hopefully??)

Here's some appropriate music :)

Only a Dream by Mary Chapin Carpenter

Distractions

It's so easy to get caught up in everything else -- forums and feedback and blog-posts and keeping up with messages -- that you forget that actually, when it comes down to it, the story is the important part.

What I mean is, I've been so caught up in people recently. Talking to people about writing and reviewing excerpts etc. really does give a similar sense of achievement as writing a thousand words does. It's so easy to forget that, without the words of *your* story, none of the rest of it would exist. It's all just decoration and, at the end of the day, when you strip it all down, it's just you that's left with the words you have written. 

I love love LOVE chatting away to other writers. I love being part of an awesomely supportive community. I love encouraging them on bad days and cheering on the good ones, and I love that other people do that for me too. I love doing swaps and reading NaNo novels. I love feeling like I've played a part in someone achieving their dreams. I love that writing *isn't* lonely.

But, if the internet shut down tomorrow, it would just be you and your words. And I think that's an important thing to remember. 

Oh, did I tell you I hit my goal of 85k yesterday? That was a good time. 

Today my goal is less exciting (but it's an at-home day, so that's okay) I want to get to the end of this scene and get a good hook into the next one for tomorrow. Just a few hundred words, I expect, but that's fine with me. 

Alright, music for the day! I'm on a huge Taylor Swift kick right -- that woman is doing awesome things in the music world right now. Every day I'm more and more impressed. So here's Blank Space.

Ahhahaha when you write a risky thing and you put it up for feedback and nothing updates for an hour and you think oh no too far and each time you refresh you get a little more despondant and then that OH SHIT SOMEONE'S READ IT A WRITTEN SOMETHING punch to the gut that always comes with feedback and then you read and it's like 'Aaaaah :) '

*headdesk*

A Creature of Habit

Last year, I was pretty pleased that I'd managed to break myself out of bad habits -- I could happily scribble away anywhere with anything, setting and circumstance didn't matter. And I've been pretty good at sustaining that... until recently.

Now I find it impossible to write at home on my laptop. Which is fine on the days we're in Starbucks, but less fine on the days off. I don't know what it is -- I just can't concentrate at home like I used to :P Too many distractions, I suppose. Need to work on getting back into good habits, especially now my daily output is dwindling. 

Saying that, today's been another good day. A big reveal's on the shore and the characters are behaving themselves nicely. And words are coming easily! I think I'm still riding off the back of yesterday. Got some real nice compliments on my most recent excerpt, and good reviews are pretty potent as fuel! Hopefully it'll last!

Having Lilo and Stitch cravings today (such a good movie don't even talk to me) so let's have some of that here!

“Tomorrow may be hell, but today was a good writing day, and on the good writing days nothing else matters.” -- Neil Gaiman

Today was a good writing day, and I will share an excerpt with you -- 

Squeezing his legs as tight as he could to Loam's sides and clasping his hands around Kai's middle, Dakin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing to keep the instinctive panic at bay as he felt the dragon's muscles shift and move beneath them as they lurched towards the mouth of the cave. It was bumpier than he had expected it to be; the dragon was awkward in its gait, and with every heavy step Dakin felt as though he was about to be flung off. And this was only when they were on the ground, and walking! Heaven knows what it would be like when they were actually up in the air... Seriously regretting letting himself get talked into this, Dakin pressed his forehead to Kai back and concentrated on not throwing up as the cool sea hair ruffled his hair.

With room to stretched, Loam spread its wings -- wide and leathery and quivering -- out then up, then out again, stretching out the kinks as one does with their arms after sleeping. The satisfied shudder coursed through its body, starting at the very tips of its wings and down and across its back, shaking the riders along with it. 

Kai chuckled when he felt Dakin's grip tighten in response. "Relax," he murmured. "You'll make Loam nervous. And a nervous dragon is not a safe dragon." 

"You're not helping," came the muffled response, hot through his jacket. "Just tell me when it's over so I can look." 

"I bet you anything you like that within ten minutes you'll've opened your eyes and won't be able to shut them again 'till we land." 

Dakin gave an indistinct mumble of *doubt in response. 

Knowing that he was absolutely right, Kai leaned forward and patted Loam's neck. "Come on then, dragon. Let's show him what it's all about." 

A squeak emitted from Dakin's lips as he felt them dip down like a coiled spring. It was happening and there was not a thing he could do about it and oh god-- 

There was a sharp rush of air and the squeak turned into a shriek as they suddenly hurtled upwards; the heavy beat of wings pulsing deafeningly in his ears, louder than the raor of the wind and the rush of his own blood. Up and down, they sank and rose like a ship on the most turbulent sea, higher and higher until the air was thin and crisp and cool, and only the steady throb of adrenaline kept his skin hot. 

Kai gritted his teeth against the sharp pain of Dakin's fingers digging into his middle and patted the dragon's neck a second time. 

At once, the wings stopped beating and the jerky movements smoothed out into a sleek glide, broken every now and then by a single smooth stroke just to keep them up. 

As they soared high and fast above the sea -- their silhouette a tiny shape skimming across the water below them -- little by little Dakin's grip began to relax and the high-strung tension in his body start to ease. 

Tucking his ruffling hair behind his ear, Kai glanced briefly backwards to see Dakin peeking out with wide blue eyes. "I told you so." 

Now that he didn't feel like he was going to be thrown off at any moment, Dakin swallowed down the last remnants of terror and eased himself carefully away from Kai, raising his head to take it all in. 

"Wow." 

Kai's laugh reverberated through them both. "Breathe it in," he said. "You'll find no sweeter taste in this life." 

Dakin obeyed, taking in a lung-full through the mouth. Kai was right. He'd never felt anything like it before. "What is it?" 

"Freedom," Kai told him, stooping low over Loam’s neck as they made a wide, sweeping turn to the left. "The freedom of dragons."

Excuse the cheesiness of the ending, I couldn't resist! I expect it'll get tweaked/aggressively deleted in the rewrite, but it's first draft so I can do what I like :)

I'm hoping to finish up this draft within the next few weeks (did I already tell you that?) The end is nigh, and I can already see the sequel series in the distance. Maybe. If the loss is too much to bare. I hate endings. Endings are worse than beginnings a thousand times over.

Here's what I'm listening to today --

Coming Home pt.II  - A very pretty song that popped up Pandora last week

Aaand, because I don't know why I haven't recc'd this yet, The Call by Regina Spektor for the Prince Caspian Soundtrack. I am passionate about this song at the moment. A good song for endings :)

New Cover!

 Yesterday, a wonderful NaNo'er -- Jinxmoonstone -- made me a beautiful cover for Book 3. Isn't it pretty? Jinx is supremely talented and I almost wish I was going through the self publishing route just so I could do it justice!

You can see more of their work at Inksplatter Art Shoppe

Keep an eye out on the NaNo Artisans thread for when they open their requests again!

Writing: A Solitary or Communal Past-Time?

Okay, so we all know the cliche of The Brooding Writer, who sits alone in a darkened, smoke filled room with only fifty coffee cups, each in a different state of decay, for company. The door is shut -- locked, probably -- with a large sign tacked onto the outside written in thick black sharpie:

Keep Out: Muse At Work

The Brooding Writer does not emerge for months, weeks years, not until they reappear -- hissing at the sunlight -- with a perfect first draft clutched tight in their nicotine-stained fingers, ready for press. The Brooding Writer remains in the real world just long enough to make sure no-one butchers their baby, then returns, hunchbacked, to the darkened room, ready to begin again. The Brooding Writer has no care for their readers and their opinions. Afterall, hat difference does it make? The Brooding Writer will write what they write and to hell with everyone else! The Brooding Writer likes a nice thick fourth wall between them and the audience, broken only occassionally in a fit of writers' angst. 

Now, in my time at university, I met a great many people who fit this title. Hell, I even considered it for myself once! It seemed bohemian and artistic and even a necessity to literary success.

For me personally, though, I think I have always been a communal writer. It's what comes from years of fanfiction and craving reviews such as 'Waaahhh what did you do?? More please!!" It's a high that quickly becomes addictive and I learnt the techniques to ensure maximum 'Waaahhh!!' By that I mean supremely sympathetic characters that you torture over and over with wicked cliff hangers. In retospect, I definitely think I treat each chapter - whether in original fic or fanfic - as a little bit like a TV episode.

Each part needs to feel complete and satisfying and, more than anything, have a good hook to keep people coming back for more.

In short, to be a communal writer, you need to have a good connection to your readership. If you want them to care and say nice things, you need to give them something to care about and you need to know how to play with their heartstrings. Be aware, also, of what affects you as a reader. Afterall, No Tears in the Writer, No Tears in the Reader, and I think that is absolutely true.

Brooding Writers are fine, and it's a method that I'm sure works for some, but don't ever think it is a requirment to shut yourself away from the world. I promise you from the bootom of my heart, that there is nothing in the world more satisfying and inspiring than a message from a reader that simply says, 'Wow.' Just like that, full-stop and all. Wow means 'You got me. You and your characters did their job.' Never underestimate the meaning of 'Wow.'

And if you want that Wow, you've got to get out there and connect with your readers.

It's good fun too ;)

Today Will Be A Better Day!

As predicted, yesterday's slump has not (thankfully) lasted. I am pumped, I am prepared, I am ready to get back down to business! Aww yeah! Bring it!

The more time I spend in the 'Say Something Nice About the Excerpt Above You' (Located in NaNoWriMo Ate My Soul, for anyone who wants to pop by and join the party!) the more I'm starting to think about my revision, what needs to be added. As usual, I have completely neglected Alyk in any of the excerpts I've put up, which is terrible because he is such a crucial character! It was only when someone mentioned wanting to know more about him when he was mentioned in passed that I realised that, once again, I was pretty much pretending he doesn't exist. This needs to change. I can feel myself doing it to Tamsyn too, side-lining her in favour of other characters. Its just like Joanna all over again who's been completely cut from the first first draft.

It's ridiculous, really, because I know what parts they all play and how it's going to work out and why they're important etc. etc. but there just doesn't seem to be enough words in a day to include everything. 

Oh well, at least I"m aware of it, and that's what revision's for, right?

In other news, hello all the new people following this blog! I'm completely overwhelmed by the traffic coming through here and seeing where everyone's coming from (This morning, Russia seems to be the most popular and yesterday was the Netherlands!) I've been getting upwards of fifty hits a day for the past three days, so the pressure's on to keep your attention (I expect it'll subside soon when everyone realises how boring this blog usually is!) 

Today is very exciting; finally getting around to The Big Climax. I'm still not 100% how to play it, but I'm just going to go with what feels right and not over-think it too much. I need to catch up on my wordcount if I want to order my createspace books by January! A very kind NaNo'er gave me a spare code so now I can order four paper backs when it's done :D At the moment, this year's manuscript stands at 375-ish pages and I've still got a good 25K to go. It's gonna be a brick!

This is what I'm listening to at the moment -

'I Will Find You' from The Last of the Mohicans Soundtrack. A truly haunting ear-worm.I saw the movie years and years ago, and I really do need to see it again. It's brilliant, visually, emotionally and, of course, musically. Not for the faint-hearted though! Enjoy :)

Aaand there's the crash!

I think yesterday I was running on NaNo fumes, and now they're spent. I am so written out. I don't even want to think about my story today! Actually, scrap that, I don't want to think about anything today. Nothing sounds good. I think I'm going to have a day off today, read some fic, read some Fruits Basket... I've been having alot of Furuba dreams recently; that's probably a sign about something. I wish I had all my books with me. The online ones are fine, but the translations are (more than) a little off :/ I should really start scouting out ebay to try and pick up the ones I'm missing from my collection -- 17 -- 23, I think? 

In other news, my father-in-law asked me again what my story was about last night. The time before we actually had a good conversation about it, but it caught me off guard last night so I couldn't do anybetter than, 'Eh bleh bleh a sort of fantasy thing about people doing stuff.' Literally. Word for word. I really need to improve on my summary skills. It isn't getting any easier. 

Yesterday was a good, encouraging day and today feels... Like I want to chuck the whole damn thing in and become a dentist. It's probably got something to do with the visa medical people still telling me that I have to wait to make my appointment, even though I've waited and waited and they said come back in December so I did and.... *headdesk* So now I'm in a slump. I'm going to eat bagel and drink tea and feel better :)

Post-NaNo Blues and Happy New Year!

Browsing through the forums this morning feels like walking through a store ten minutes before closing -- everything's quiet and the air is still buzzing from the energy of the last minute rush. I"m pretty surprised so many people have disappeared so quickly, but I'm glad to see the regulars are still hanging around.

A lot of people are expressing their sadness that NaNo is over, and I totally get that. It's a mad month of friendzied scribbling, and coming out the other side is like waking up after a month-long sleep. It is sad, but it's also exciting -- now you've got the whole year ahead of you with an amazing block of raw material ready and waiting to be chizzled into something gorgeous!

NaNo, for me at least, is like the new-year's party for the writing year and I cannot wait to see what this year will bring! Last year, it brought me the confidence to go freelance whole new world and cast of characters of my own to work with. This year... who knows? But I think good things are going to happen. I feel more confident, more dedicated, and any excuse I had *not* to do my very best has been completely erradicated.

I have no more excuses, nor do I have the desire to make any more.

Whether you 'won' or not, simply by participating in the eventyou have shown more dedication, more passion and more drive than most self-proclaimed writers ever do. It doesn't matter *what* you've ended up with, only that you *have* ended up with something. And the coming year is the time to make that something into something brilliant!

So don't be sad NaNo's over, be excited for the next step in your novelling and look forward to next year :)

Today my mother poked her foot in the door of my life again (she's on holiday in Mexico and yet still has nothing better to do than cyber-stalk me...) so, as ever, I'm battling with some weird feelings that I really shouldn't have to be dealing with.

So here's a nice thing somebody said to me yesterday on the forum to make myself feel better --

Dear God, do I ever understand what Dakin is going through. Living with the memories of people you love and hate so much and seeing the part that you hate about them rise in you. That right there is something so identifiable about the human condition. Amid this wonderful, fantastic story you've created is a powerful truth. And finding that truth, as far as I'm concerned, is the purpose of storytelling. Well done!

I never consciously write about the personal relationships I have with people, but it's interesting when a third party manages to just put their finger on the complication inside your head.

This is the reason I don't regret.

NaNoWriMo 2014 - That's a Wrap!

Aaaand there we go. November is over. Wow. That was... quite a mad month! I've signed off with 77,500 words, a novel and a half, and I feel like I can breathe again. I excited to carry on, as though I'm starting the month over, but at a more relaxed, less maniacal pace. I have big plans for these books and I'm looking forward to pulling them into shape!

Thank you to everyone I've chatted to over this month - it's been a real pleasure watching everyone work and sharing snippets! I can't wait to do all the beta swaps and finally spend some quality time reading! The NaNo community is so priceless, and really takes away the 'lonely writer' edge and makes it a much more communal endeavor. Novelling is much more fun when you've got people cheering you on, especially when the morose 'Uuugh I hate words!' phase sets in. I hope to see everyone hanging around into the revision months!

Thank you, especially, to everyone who's meandered over and said hello through interest in my excerpts. Really, I can't even describe what a compliment that is. Fanfiction is one thing -- you've pretty much got a ready-made readership right there -- but to have people fascinated by something that is purely out of my head... Wow. Thank you. It gives me hope and reassurance that I'm on the right track. I love my characters more than I can say, and I'm honoured that other people love them too. I hope I can make something worthy of that.

Alright alright, I'll stop blathering >_< 

Happy Novelling, all! It's been a blast!

The Freedom of Dragons -- A Sample

Chapter One:

Humming softly, Laurie reached up and ran the palm of his hand down the soft, velvet, muzzle of the dragon -- Loam -- just as Kai had shown him. He smiled as he felt the low vibrations of something similar to a purr rumble through the creature, its bright purple eyes fixed steadily on his as it looked down at him, its long neck dipped so that he could reach. It had wrapped its enormous leathery wings tightly around its body as a defense against the cold. Laurie had still yet to see the dragon in its full glory -- Kai said that dragons did not do well in the cold -- but even without its wingspan, Loam was still by far the biggest creature that he had ever seen. He's read about dragons, of course, seen them soaring high up in the sky, but he had never imagined that they would be as big as this.

And to think that he would soon be riding it...

Laurie giggled and shied away as the forked tip of Loam's tongue darted out to lick his nose, the dragon's hot breath, as strong as a breeze, stirring his hair.

"Fancy yourself as a dragon dancer?"

Both boy and dragon turned their heads to see Kai leaning against a wooden beam, watching them with a sleek smile.

The hay carpeting the wide stables *crunched as Loam maneuvered its long body carefully in one-hundred-and-eighty degrees -- Laurie had to duck quickly as the broad pointed tail swung around, nearly knocking him over -- and padded across to whuffle in Kai's hair and clothes, hoping for treats. Finding none, it harumphed in disappointment and flopped down, laying its great head at Kai's feet and looking up at him plaintively.

"Oh, don't give me that," said Kai, crouching to scratch the dragon between its long, curling horns. "You think I don't know about all your fans that have been coming in giving you titbits? If you eat anymore, you won't be able to stay up in the air, my friend."

The dragon huffed and clamped its mouth around Kai's leg and, with a dragonish smirk, floored him with a quick tug.

"You're lucky I like you," Kai informed him with a laugh, lying back in the hay with his arms behind his head. "Bloody dragons...Now listen here," he said, beckoning Loam closer so the dragon's wide ear was right up by his mouth. "You don't give Tamsyn any nonsense, okay?" The dragon's ear twitched. "I know you don't like her much, and she don't like you even more, but she doesn't like anyone. You know that. Right?" Loam blinked in understanding. "You like Laurie though, don't you? So you look after him. You get them both back home safely. None of your usual nonsense with Tamsyn because your new friend, he's not used to it. And you don't want him to stop liking you, do you?"

The dragon swung his head around to peer at Laurie, as though double checking that what Kai said was true. Then it licked Kai's nose in agreement.

"Good," said Kai, standing up and brushing the hay that had stuck to his hair and clothes and everywhere in-between. "I'm glad we understand each other." He looked up at Laurie. "Feeling ready?"

"No."

Kai laughed. He laughed a lot, Laurie found, and smiled even more. Life was a game to enjoy playing to him. "Just don't panic," he advised, moving around and running his hand along the dragon's spiney back. "Trust Loam, and trust Tamsyn. She doesn't fly much, but she knows what she's doing. If you feel yourself freaking out, just close your eyes and pretend you're dreaming. You can do that, right?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. "They didn't get you yet, did they?"

Laurie shook his head. "Not quite."

"Good." Kai nodded approvingly. "That'll make it easier."

"What about Dakin? He won't be able to--"

"Don't worry," said Kai raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I figured it would be better to sail over. Take it steady, you know? It'll take longer but I wouldn't want to risk flying."

Laurie nodded slowly, sucking his lip. "I really think I should stay and come with you..." He knew it was useless bringing it up again, it had already been decided and he had already reluctantly agreed to it.

As predicted, Kai shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of his face. "The sooner you go, the sooner the captain and I can work on getting Dakin out of the City. We already know where he is. It's just a matter of working out how."

Laurie's expression hardened. "If you know where he is, why is it taking so long?"

Kai regarded him, then sat down on Loam's leg. "You know the big wall around Guilders' Square?"

"Yes."

"Well, they've put guards at every hundred meters. Dakin is in the Palace of Sapphires which, even on a good day, has pretty heavy security. And I expect they've got him held in the extra guarded ward reserved for Dreamers and delinquents. Because you know what the Empire does to people who don't quite fit into their nice little mold? They pump them full of chemicals and break and reform them until they do fit into that mold. That's what they're doing to your brother. That's why it's going to take time, and that's why you need to get out of here. Alright kid," he said before Laurie could question him further. "Take these. You'll need them more than I will for a while." He tugged off his fingerless gloves and reach over to pass them to Laurie.

"What're they made of?" he asked, running his fingers over the coarse, green-brown material.

Kai smirked. "Dragon hide." He laughed when Laurie pulled a disgusted face. "Relax, kid. There's going to be a lot of things you're going to have to get used to. Dragon leather's going to be the least of it, I promise you. Anyway, you'll be glad of them when you're five miles up in the air. Dragon scales are not the most pleasant thing to hold onto for hours at a time. Those spines are sharp and if you slip, and they catch you the wrong way, you're going to lose fingers. You don't ever get on the back of dragon without being fully prepared. That's lesson one." He held up a finger to prove it. "Lesson two --" a second one was flipped up, "-- is you don't ever, and I mean ever, try and make a dragon do what a dragon doesn't want to do. Do that, and you'll end up floundering in the sea. And it'll probably serve you right, too. A dragon always knows best. That's probably why them two -- Loam and Tamsyn, I mean -- struggle to see eye to eye. Stubborn as mules, both of 'em." An affectionate smile slid across his lips. "But you're not like that, right?" He reached over to ruffle Laurie's curly hair. "You'll know better than she does, and this one'll respect you better for it. Not much else to it, really. Dragon knows where to go. Just a matter of holding tight and staying on. Got it?"

Mute with nerves, Laurie swallowed and nodded.

"Once you're through your first flight, and you've come off the other side in one piece, you'll have completely forgotten why you were nervous in the first place," Kai assured him as he watched Laurie's complexion pale and then tinge with green.

"Were you nervous the first time?"

Kai considered this carefully, then shook his head. "Not really. Maybe on my first solo flight. I grew up with dragons, you see. They were just always a part of life. This one here's been with me since I was half you age." He patted Loam's haunches affectionately and the dragon swung its head around with a docile expression in its purple eyes. "Long as you know how to treat 'em, long as you're used to each other, you can trust a dragon far further than you can ever trust a person." He spoke with a casual practised ease that Laurie knew better than to take at face value.

"Where d'you come from?" he asked. "Not the Empire."

Kai chucked. "No, not the Empire. Not really anywhere, really. Just sort of drifted here and there until Logan offered me a home. He's like that, you know. He likes to take in strays. Most leave after a little while, but some stay, like me and Tam."

"Where did she come from?"

Kai hesitated. "I think you should let her tell her story. Not really my place, you know? She'll tell you in her own time."

"Didn't your parents miss you when you went to Logan's? Or weren't they very nice."

"Oh, I never knew them. I don't think so, anyway."

"You don't know?"

"Well, I grew up in a circus that traveled across the world. People were always coming and going. I suppose my parents came and then they went too. And I suppose they left me behind. I never really thought about it and it's never really mattered. That was just how it was. There were always plenty of people around, and we were always too busy to have time to worry about things like that."

"Why did you leave?" Laurie asked, sitting down cross legged in the hay. "How old were you?"

"Eleven, maybe?" said Kai, frowning as he tried to remember. "Something around there. Anyway, I, ah..." He gave an awkward little laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "Got into a bit of a... disagreement, if you like, with the Master. Then I decided that was that and... that was that. Took my dragon and left. We traveled around for a bit on our own, freelancing and scraping enough money to eat. 'Course, not much money to be made with a one-man, one-dragon show. So I branched out, got myself into trouble, and was lucky enough to come across Logan. Or, more precisely, that he came across me. Took me on as an assistant type thing -- although, I'm pretty sure he only wanted me for my dragon; a useful transport, you see -- and the rest, as they say, is history." His smile broadened, showing just a little too much teeth. "I was the first, you know, of Logan's strays," he told Laurie with a glint of pride. "Tamsyn hates it. She wants to be special. She's not as competitive about it as she used to be -- it used to be awful -- she's chilled out a lot over the years, but she still gets funny when new people come along. Don't take it personally, though. That's just her way. Once she stops seeing you as a threat, she'll be fine."

NaNoWriMo 2014 - Day 28; Second Goal Achieved!

Huzzah! 75k reached! 

I knew within a few days of crossing 50k that I simply wasn't going to make 100, and that's okay. I've done more than I ever imagined I'd be ablle to -- remember my freak out thinking I was going to lose this one?? -- so I'm pretty delighted to have got a novel-and-a-half in a month. 

And there's still two and a half days left, so how knows what's going to happen then?

I think, what I'm trying to say in this post, is that I now really feel like I've won NaNoWriMo 2014. I feel good -- not the light headed good of hitting 50k -- but a deep, kind of heavy good of knowing that I've really challeneged myself and made the most of this month, which is exactly what I set out to do, and what I really feared I would fail at. 

The second novel, 'Dragons', is certainly much more similar to last year's novel in that it definitely feels 'pants'd', as opposed to 'Guilders' which was loosely planned and will need a lot less work. I'm exploring a lot of new territory in 'Dragons', though, and most of that I wasn't expecting to even have to think about until next year! It's coming together nicely, though, and I'm having a lot of fun with dragons and complicated semi-romantic relationships, which have so far been completely absent from this series. And I think I know my ending? I think? Don't count your chickens though, I've still got 25-ish K to go!

I will probably post a snippet from 'Dragons' in the next couple of days, but if you can't wait, you can find one on my NaNo page (link in the side)

P.S -- what's with all these hits from France all of a sudden? Who are you?? Let me know! It's been great chatting to people ho have messaged me!

NaNoWriMo 2014 - Day 24

Happy Thanksgiving, American readers! I know it's two days away, but we're popping off to Kansas City tomorrow to spend it with Christine's brother and his family, so better now than late :)

At 71,000 words today and feeling good. I feel like I'm in a nice little routine, not worry about word count and just enjoying spending time on the story. I'm really really enjoying Kai -- which is a huge relief because, as I said earlier, he's quite different to how I originally imagined him -- but I think he's turning into one of my favourites. And today I got to write Ammy for the first time! Writing female characters has has never really come naturally, and I've never attempted a little girl before, but I'm super excited for how she's turning out! She feels very real, and a proper character rather a caricature of a child, which is good because she has a very important part to play. 

I've had some good feedback on the NaNo forums too, especially regarding Kai and Lome and my dialogue. I've always found dialogue to come quite naturally -- it just makes sense to me to write how I hear it -- much more so than description. I'm training myself with description though, because I do have a tendency to put it off >_< Recently, though, I've found settings to come similarly to characters. What I mean by that, is that I have the initial shadow of the idea of them -- character/setting -- but until I start actually writing them, I really have no idea how it's going to turn out. Logan's island I was very worried would be flat and dull, but as the ship approached it suddenly sprung to life like a pop-up book! Relief! 

Anyhow, got some exciting bits coming up soon so I'm psyched to keep going. 

Today I listened to Imagine Dragons' Warriors and was pretty struck by how closely the lyrics related to Laurie, so that's my music for the day :)

A Procrastination Ramble and Music Recs

Hello folks. 

Had a browse at my blog stats today and my gosh! I actually have a fairly large audience! I've always just sort of treated my blog as a diary-type-thing, you know, a place to splurge, but now I have followers and a crazy amount of people that seem to pop by just as I update. 

Please say hello! I don't get notifications about subscribers (not sure if there's a way to do that) but I assume I do have some subscribers, otherwise it's a bizarre coincidence. 

Anyhow, it's Sunday 23rd November and I'm avoiding getting down my words by having an argument about feminism on facebook. I really don't understand how it's even still an issue, I really don't. 

I don't know... I used to be like that -- feminism was a dirty word and all I wanted was to be a house-wife with  a husband who would keep me and give me babies. I didn't want a career, I didn't want independence, I just wanted love and thought that feminism meant the opposite. 

I'm so glad I grew up and learned better. 

I don't hate men -- I have male friends and grandfathers that I love to pieces, but the more aware I am of the ingrained misogyny that *still* exists in our society, even in young, educated men and women that really should know better, it just makes me so angry! It is not okay, and the more feminism is made out to be this outrageous group of crazies, the more people learn that it's acceptable to be like that. I would rather be seen as a feminazi than be apathetic and 'not all men', because men have a hell of a lot to make up for. And yes, all men. All men have a responsibility to be better and to make up for all the shit that women have been put through. Stop making excuses and acting like you're being victimised by feminism -- take it on board and realise that this is what women have been dealing with daily for far too long. Use it to empathise, use it to be better. Stop making it about you. It's not all about you!

*deepbreath*

Okay, that's that for now. 

I haven't done any music recs for a while, so here's a few to make up for it. 

First Little Game  by Benny -- A spectacular new song about the danger of gender roles by a fifteen-year-old filmmaker. Absolutely must listen to!

  

Next, very exciting! The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd -- Hot from the press, here's the final (!!) Middle Earth End Title Song. Gorgeous. Heart-breaking. *weep*

Yellow Flicker Beat by Lorde from the Mockingjay soundtrack is absolutely as good as her last contribution to Hunger Games -- just as gut-wrenching and even more powerful. Really inspiring for those angst-ridden writing moments!

The Hanging Tree by James Newton Howard -- Straight from the Mockingjay soundtrack itself (when is it going to be released??????) and sung by Jennifer Lawrence. My god! This movie! This music! Flawless. I'm still recovering from the preview last week. Just listen to this, if you're a die-hard Hunger Games fan or if you're on the fence, and go see this movie. Be prepared. If I can create something half as intense as these movies, I will be happy. 

I'm also on a Taylor Swift binge at the moment, but I think this is enough to be going on with for the moment.

Peace out :)

In The City of Guilders -- A Sample

Chapter One --

“Ah, fuck it...” Robyn muttered, throwing her pen down in disgust and leaning back with her hands clasped behind her head. It bounced on the ledger spread out in front of her, clattered across the table and then dropped to the floor and rolled out of sight. It was the last straw after a particularly arduous day. Gritting her teeth to keep herself from swearing anymore, she held her breath and closed her eyes, counting backwards from ten -- a method she always taught her patients right from the beginning. ‘Focus on the numbers,’ she told them. Numbers were nice and objective, but never count up. Always down. If you count up, you’re liable to never stop. The most important part of recovery is to have a simple, attainable goal. Counting always did the trick.

“You alright?” Her assistant, Trystan, glanced over from his own desk, his brow furrowed in concern.

Robyn sighed and nodded, still keeping her eyes tight shut. “Yeah, fine. It’s been... a long day. That’s all.”

Trystan laughed and breathy, easy laughed. “It has that,” he agreed. “We’ve been here, what? Getting on twelve hours now.”

“Mmm hmm. Twelve hours in this damned room and still no sign of a break- through. Dammit!” Her hand slammed down hard on the table top, making Trystan jump and more stationary clatter to the floor. “Dammit! I had really thought we were getting somewhere.” She ran her fingers fretfully through her long, dark brown hair once, twice and a third time just because. “I was certain that this would be The Week.”

Trystan shot her a lopsided grin. “You say that every week.”

Finally opening her eyes, Robyn glared at him. “That’s because I believe it every week. Because what’s the point of it all otherwise? It’s out there, Trys, and it’s within reach. If I could just...” Her fingers flexed unconsciously, and then she deflated. “Ah, fuck it,” she said again, more defeated this time. “Tomorrow’s another day and next week’s another week. Let’s call it quits for now and get out of here.”

So saying, Robyn shoved her chair back, cricked her neck and stretched out her limbs. For almost the whole twelve hours, she had not moved from her position hunched over her ledger -- searching and searching for the clue in the formula that would finally lead her to the breakthrough she knew she was capable of. And now, she ached. “I’m going to have the longest soak and the biggest glass of wine I can find,” she muttered, sweeping the remaining contents of her desk into her bag and swinging it over her shoulder. “I think I’ve deserved it, don’t you?”

Buttoning up his own jacket, Trystan laughed. “Of course you do.” He was always laughing and smiling, Robyn reflected, flicking off the light as she lead them out of the little room. He was the most easy going person she had ever met. She was thankful for it, too. She needed someone like that to keep her sane. The powers that be had probably designed it that way.

Walking down the long, deserted corridors of the Sapphire Palace, Robyn smiled to herself. As much as she complained, she wouldn’t change any part of her life for anything in the world. It was a good one, and it suited her. Here she was, in the most beautiful city in the Empire, and she was making a difference and working hard to improve the lives of all the Empire’s citizens. And she had worked hard to get there. It was a good life, and she deserved it.

What more could she possibly ask for?

As they approached the main doors which lead out to the Guilders’ Square, Trystan shivered and wrapped his arms around his body. “Wow! It’s freezing!”

“Mmm.” It certainly did seem colder than usual, even despite it being so late. Temperature fluctuated very little in the land beneath the Ever Risen Sun, a few degrees here and there at the very most, but the breeze floating in from the outside made Robyn feel as though her blood had suddenly frozen.

A cold dread settled in her stomach, the dread that could only be brought on by the unknown, the unprecedented, the incalculable. “Trys...” She put out an instinctive hand to stop him and he paused obediently at her touch. “Wait here,” she said. “I’m going to go see what’s going on.”

Licking her lips, Robyn approached the swinging doors with deep trepidation, her heart hammering in her ears. She honestly couldn’t remember ever being so frightened. Even as a child, she was able to rationalise herself out of any encroaching fear. But this... she swallowed hard, reaching out to push against the frosted glass. This was something else altogether.

Gathering her courage and telling herself sternly to stop being so silly, Robyn leaned in and pushed with her entire weight until she almost stumbled out into the night’s air.

A gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening in shock and wonder.

The world seemed to have turned a dusky orange; the light from the sun-lamps muted and distorted, spreading out like fog. And all around were flurries of white.

Robyn held out her hand and watched, amazed, as frozen flakes settled then melted on her outstretched palm, each one leaving the tiniest stinging kiss on her exposed skin.

Rooted to the spot, her mind whirred, unable to properly determine whether the appropriate action would be to run and hide, or revel in the glory of this bizarre occurrence. Evidence was beginning to suggest, however, that -- despite the chill and the sting of the cold -- this flurry was not dangerous. Just weird.

Thrusting her numbed hands deep into her armpits, Robyn called back to Trystan who was hovering by the door. “It’s alright! It’s cold, but it’s safe. I think.”

Trystan approached her cautiously, squinting up at the sky. “Wow,” he breathed, the hot breath coming out in a large cloud of steam. “What is this?”

“Haven’t a clue.” Her ears and the tip of her nose were beginning to sting. “I don’t think we should stand around in it for too long, though. Not without knowing anything about it.” The tangent seemed to suggest that the longer they exposed themselves to it, the less pleasant it became. It took, on average, twenty minutes to reach her home from the palace, and Robyn was reluctant to find out what would happen to the human body if they stayed out for much longer than that. “Come on,” she said, starting off across the courtyard in long strides. Perhaps she’d be able to make in fifteen today. That would be nice. Motivated by the thought of her nice, hot bubbly bath, she picked up her pace, forcing Trystan to trot along after her, one hand held up to his brow to keep the snow from falling in his eyes.

They always walked home from work together, every day for the last couple of years, ever since he had first come to work with her. Luckily, the path they took through the streets of the City of Guilders was so well worn and ingrained into their memories, it hardly mattered that it was almost impossible to see three steps ahead.

Robyn and Trystan flitted from street lamp to street lamp, lead by the pale orange glow of the trapped sunlight. Conversation had been made impossible by the chattering of teeth, which grew louder and more uncontrollable with every passing minute. Robyn was beginning to despise this weather. She did not do well in change -- good or bad -- and every part of her ached fiercely. The streets of the city were completely deserted, which was partly understandable as it had long passed the hour in which people normally retired to their homes, but the thick blizzard and the unusual quality of the light made the lack of life particularly eerie.

If she hadn’t felt so frozen she was sure her bones would snap, Robyn might have considered making a run for it. But it was too far, and she simply couldn’t risk getting lost. Her senses were already becoming dull, distracted to everything but the bitter cold. She almost found herself praying -- that was how bad it was -- that this weather would pass soon. Although, in the most hardened, sensible part of her heart, she knew perfectly well that this was not something that would simple vanish over night. This was something that would have consequences. And severe ones at that.

But there was no point in trying to think about that now, she reasoned sternly with herself. She had to stay in the moment and just focus on getting home and warm and dry. For such tiny flakes, they certainly managed to soak you to the bone!

Less than five minutes away from her front door, Robyn paused to say goodbye to Trystan, who turned a sharp corner and jogged to his own home, leaving her alone in the blizzard. Part of her wished he had walked her to her door, but this was their routine and it wouldn’t have made sense for him to stay out any longer than necessary. Still, her steps felt heavier and the street felt longer now she was alone, and her mind was beginning to play tricks on her.

She could have sworn that there were figures in the fog, shapeless and indeterminate. And voices too; whispers carried along on the sharp breeze and burying themselves in her ears. Shaking her head, Robyn soldiered on. The sooner she got out of this, the better. If she stayed out any longer, she’d start dreaming again, and where would she end up then?

The image of herself in a hospital gown, gaunt and wide-eyed like one of her patients sent a shiver down her spine, distinctly different and much less pleasant than the chills from the snow. If nothing else, the deepest fear of ending up on her own ward was provided more than enough motivation to always be the very best she could possibly be. She did her best for them -- for each and every one of them, no matter how undeserving they were -- and they were fortunate that there was treatment available to them. Never grateful, though. Not until much much later when, finally, the right strain had been found and administered. They always seemed to labour under the impression that they were better off as they were. Robyn couldn’t understand it -- didn’t want to understand it. How could anyone choose to be like that?

Dreamers were a liability, to themselves and to every other hard-working citizen of the Empire.

Why would anyone choose to be that selfish?

Turning the final corner, Robyn could see her home in the distance and the sight of it filled her heart with a flood of warmth. Thank you thank you. Then, down a tiny side-alley, a movement out of the corner of her eye made her stop and turn and peer through the blizzard.

This indistinct figure was not like the other ghosts that had followed her home. This one was corporeal. Solid. She could reach out and touch it, if she chose to.

Swallowing down her need to be inside, Robyn’s physician-instincts kicked in. No-one should be outside in this.

“Hello?” she called, her voice swallowed up by the snow. “Hello? Do you need help?”

At first, there was no reply except for the roar of wind and the pounding of blood in her ears. Then, as thin as a needle, a voice called back to her. “Hello?” A child’s voice.

Her stomach lurched and all sense of danger for herself was forgotten as she ran towards the voice, kicking up snow behind her. “Where are you?” she shouted into the fog, her hair whipping around her face as looked this way and that, searching for the owner of the voice and hoping against hope that it hadn’t simply been a product of her frost addled mind. “I’m a doctor. I can help you.” She wondered vaguely if she still had her bottle of Somnium Interdit. She had a feeling that she might need some after all this.

“Here. We’re here.”

We?

Her feet carried her reluctant body onwards, spurred on by a distinct sense of duty. As she approached, the figure became clearer and more human until Robyn found herself face to face with a boy. A teenage boy, judging by his gangliness.

He stared up at her, shivering, from behind a mass of curly chocolate-coloured hair; his big, brown eyes hard and fierce and tinged with fear. He hugged himself with arms that seemed a little too long in a useless attempt to keep out the cold. Robyn might not have been dressed appropriately for the weather, but this boy was even less prepared, wearing little more than a flimsy shirt and trousers that looked as if they had been soaked up to the knee. Truth be told, she was amazed that he was still standing.

“What’re you doing out here?” she asked. “Where do you live?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, then he reached out with thin, frozen fingers and tugged at her hand. “You said you could help,” he insisted, urging her to follow. “Please. Help us.”

“Who’s ‘us’?”

“Me and my brother. Come on. You have to hurry. He’s sick.”

Robyn gave in and jogged after the boy, wondering what on earth she was getting herself into. “What’s your name?” she asked breathlessly, trying to concentrate on How To Be A Doctor. “How old are you?”

But they boy rebuffed her questions with a sharp, “That doesn’t matter right not.” And Robyn was too cold to argue.

Soon, the boy stopped and pointed to a second figure -- his brother -- huddled on the ground and propped up by a tall, brick wall. This boy was older, although it was impossible to give an accurate estimation in that position, and had a man’s coat draped around his shoulders. Lank, grey hair fell across a pallid face and dark blue eyes stared unseeingly ahead through frosted glasses. At first, Robyn feared that the boy had succumbed to the cold and had frozen to death but, on closer inspection, little clouds of steam puffed from between chapped lips. His breathing might have been shallow, but at the very least he was alive.

Robyn crouched down on her feels and peered at him closely. Only the faintest flicker across his features gave any indication that he was aware of her at all, although when she reached out to feel the pulse in his wrist, he flinched and drew away.

The younger boy crouched down beside her. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice low and gentle as though speaking to a small child. “She said she can help. We can trust her.” He glanced sideways at Robyn. “Right?”

She nodded emphatically. “Right. Look, my house is right around the corner. Why don’t we all go there, now, and warm up a bit? I think that’ll make everyone feel better.”

The older boy hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared *questioningly up at his brother as though seeking permission. Then, when it was given with a nod and a smile, he allowed Robyn to take his arm and help him unsteadily to his feet, slipping on the snow covered ground and leaning on the wall for support.

He was tall, Robyn noticed now, and at least in his late teens, if not older. But there was something, in the way he moved and in the way he held himself, that made him seem almost child-like in *countenance.

Whatever was wrong with him, though, one thing was certain; a warm house and a hot drink would certainly bring at least some degree of improvement.