Sunday, November 28, 2004

2,350 words yesterday, 46,041 words total

I tried to post this on my nanowrimo blog, but the cursed thing won't go vroom vroom.

Location: kitchen island

Mood: "kill me for I am worthless as I am neither a genre writer or literary writer."

Music: My brand spanking new eclectic play list. Couple o' soundtracks, some chant, some sarah brightman (who is a genre unto herself, I fear), some classical, some opera. All good :)

Food: What didn't I eat last night? James kept plying me with stuff because I was bummed beyond bummed (sword of omans, give me sight beyond sight!) There was icecream, a toffee and hot chocolate. I love my widdle writing enabler.

First line: “Because if you think your friend hurt you badly, then you do not understand just how cruel I can be to those that oppose me. I will make you wish you had never been reborn.”
(gimme a break, the guy's like three hundred years old)


Last Line: “I do not know of what you speak,” she said in all honesty, hoping only that she would not be made to dwell too deeply upon the nothingness that was very soon to overtake her.
(gimme a frigging break, I know it's over inflated, but it's a flashback a couple hundred years)

I can't believe I can see the finish line.

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