The Barefoot Ballroom

Wow. So by tomorrow, I should be halfway done. With my NaNo goal, anyway. I can't even talk about what that feels like. Next year, it's going to be such a bring-down. *laughs* The main draft is up to 175 pages, 76,000+ words; I need to blow the ink and print it all out and start trying to think where I'm going to do breaks once I start posting. The thought of editing this monster makes me want to cry, just a little bit. But I'm being strong and resisting the urge to start posting unbetaed. *flexes* See? Totally strong.

23,518 / 50,000 words. 47% done!

Today's Word Count: 2,314
Current Total Word Count: 23,518
Current Project Word Count: 76,745
Estimated Total Word Count: ~100,000
What's bad: Believe it or not, there is no bad today. Voices were loud, flail was quiet. It was a good day.
What's good: After wrapping up last night's word count, I proceeded to write another 1200 words towards today's count, which nicely covered the five hours I spent having a lovely fangirl lunch with nyerca! And then I came home and slipped right in the story window to write another thousand. I had to make some moderately big changes to this part, but they feel good and I think it's really working. I like the idea of exploring Sue-Ann as a McCoy.
What pleases me: "Layla, dear, come on. Roy's just about to start…" It takes Mary a moment to recognize the woman that bustles up to Layla. Grief and time have not been particularly kind to Sue-Ann, though she doesn't look particularly old. It's more that the lines of stubbornness and pain have set into her face as if drawn by pen, belying the unfaded cinnamon color of her hair and her smooth, unspotted skin. "Lillith," she says flatly, nostrils flaring.

"Sue-Ann." Mary nods. She and Sue-Ann were never friends. Sue-Ann lorded every day of the three years that separates them in age over Mary, too busy with her own schemes and her own friends to pay much attention. On the other hand—and perhaps more importantly—they were never enemies. And things changed when you had children—sons. At least in their family. She hopes it'll be enough.

Sue-Ann inhales sharply and then pivots, ushering Layla toward the tent. "You go on in, honey. Your mom's already found you seats up in the front."

Layla nods, her smile burgeoning into brightness like a star. "Nice to meet you all," she says politely, nodding at Sam and Mary before she ducks through the flap, only slightly unsteady.

---

Previous parts can be found here

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( Why're you here, if you're not a believer? )

Success! Chapter Five is finished, as I thought/hoped. As usual, it's going to need some revision and padding, but the point is, DONE. And that means I can move onto "Faith" tomorrow. I've also come to the conclusion that, although the outline doesn't call for Mary to share certain information until "Nightmare", there's no way Sam's going to hold his cork for that long and Mary's going to be feeling a lot of guilt for getting Sam into this. So some of that information is going to have to come out in "Faith", though not all of it. I've also had some interesting thoughts about the denouement. I don't know if I can make them work in print, but it's certainly a lot more than I knew before.

19,204 / 50,000 words. 38% done!

Today's Word Count: 2,872
Current Total Word Count: 19,204
Estimated Total Word Count: ~100,000
What's bad: The last scene with Dean and YED. It's not working for me and I'm not sure why. I think it needs to be longer, for one thing, but I'm not sure how to stretch out torture without making it gratuitious. At the same time, I think it's too short right now to give proper impact. I also think I screwed up some with the inclusion of Emily at the end. I'm going to have to go back and revise the scene from yesterday in the storm cellar to move Zacharias around. I'm also not sure about the last part in the orchard. It seemed like this part would be much more urgent in the outline and I'm just not getting the proper sense of urgency and I don't know how to fix that either. baileytc and anyone else who's reading, if you have thoughts, I'd REALLY like to hear them! Please.
What's good: On the other hand, I do like how much more active Emily is here. Because she's now an extraneous female (because of Mary), she's no longer a damsel in a dress, she's a rescuer. I really like how her character has changed and strengthened for me. And I think that I actually changed the action around pretty well. I think the scenes need some tweaking, but I don't think I'll have to totally rewrite any of them and there's a definite flow to them. I also like how strong Sam is here. There's not enough kickass!Sam in the world and I like that he has to take the lead and be the knowledgable one.
What pleases me: "Emily, I want you to stay in the car." Sam reaches over the seat to rummage through his bag for the few weapons he brought with him.

"No way!" Emily declares staunchly. "I'm coming with you."

Sam bonks his head on the roof of the car as he settles back on his haunches to look at her. "Emily."

"Sam," she answers levelly.

"First of all, this could be dangerous. I don’t know how dangerous. And I've gotta worry about my mom. Secondly…" He sighs. "Emily, they're people you know."

Emily's face is pale, her eyes haunted. "You don't think I know that? God, it's all I've been able to think about since…since I found out." She hoists the gas can up from between her legs. "But I don't think I could live with myself if I just…sat by and let it happen. I'll be careful. But I'm going with you."

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Previous parts can be found here

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( Look, this is going to sound crazy, but they… They're going to kill her. Sacrifice her. )

Today was actually so much better and worse. The writing itself went really well and feels wonderful. I feel like I really hit a stride here. But this was all complicated by the fact that I completely messed up my eye and so I've been suffering through a headache from hell, a stuffy/runny nose and watering eyes ALL DARNED DAY.

13,977 / 50,000 words. 28% done!

Today's Word Count: 2,366 (WOOT, MOTHERFUCKERS!)
Current Total Word Count:
Estimated Total Word Count: ~100,000
What's bad: I scratched my cornea. That made every word of this REALLY DIFFICULT TO TYPE.
What's good: Everything else! I've been having issues with how close the last chapter was to canon, feeling like I was just retelling instead of reinterperting, but this chapter is really a lot more AU, giving me room to do new and different things. It's also a lot more fun to write when I have this room to embroider and go off the beaten path. I really need to add some physical description for Zach, but I like how he's shaping up, young and powerful and amoral and just a little too excited to be doing this. And I think that, although Mary's was stubborn and codproud to let Sam walk away the way she did, her regret afterward is ringing true.
What pleases me: "So what brings you to Burkitsville?" Emily asks, once she's got the nozzle in and the pump is loudly clicking over the gallons.

Mary stubs the END button quickly and looks up into Emily's guileless eyes. "Not a damn thing," she admits. "Just passing through, looking for some breakfast."

Emily nods, pleasant expression not budged in the least. "Best place…" Her smile turns rueful. "Well, pretty much the only place is Scotty's Café over there." She points. "But the food's good. And the apple pie is first rate."

Mary makes a face. "I'm not much for canned apples."

"Oh, no! They're fresh. Or…last year's harvest, anyway. Believe me, they taste as fresh as when they came off the branch." She holds up her hand. "Swear."

"Never really thought of Indiana as an apple state." Mary tucks the cell back in her pocket—though not without yet another pang of misgiving—and tucks her hands into her armpits for warmth. It's a lot warmer than standing on the road in the dark of night with Sam, but April in the Midwest is still a damp, chilly time.

Emily laughs. "Well, it isn't. Really, it's just us."

"So you're a local?" Mary's not really one for small talk, but the low level kibitzing of interrogation has become second nature.

Emily shrugs. "My parents died when I was thirteen." She jerks her thumb back at the shadowed interior of the gas station. "My aunt and uncle took me in. They're nice people." Another shrug. "Everybody's nice here."

"The perfect little town?" Mary asks, careful not to let disbelief enter her tone.

Another smile and Emily's cheeks must ache all day from all this smiling. "Well, it's the boonies. But I love it. The towns around us, Scottsburg, Salem… It's not the same. People losing their homes, their farms, drugs coming in and the crime rate rising. But not here. My aunt says we've been blessed."

---

( You should really try the pie! )

I'm feeling like this part is going to need some considerable revision. I'm not sure how I feel about it. But I kept myself from editing it, so that's something. Of course, I also suspect no one's reading this yet, so I suppose the only person it matters to is me. So yes. I was having a really hard time keeping in mind that Ellicott was running the asylum in the sixties; for some reason, I'd always thought/felt it was the earlier part of the century. I wonder how much my mom can tell me about mental health facilities during that time period? I don't think she started nursing until the early seventies and I'm not sure how much drift there was in medical procedures and stuff at that point.

I went a little long tonight because I was within KISSING DISTANCE of finishing Chapter Four by midnight and I felt it was worth it to go a little over my self imposed deadline and finish the chapter than to post one scene tomorrow and then start Chapter 5. *shrugs*

10545 / 50000 words. 21% done!

Today's Word Count: 3,333
Current Total Word Count: 10,545
Estimated Total Word Count: ~100,000
What's bad: The diary entries. I really need more time to get into the mindset of The Mysterious Diarist and I just didn't have that. I'm also iffy about Sam's diatribe.
What's good: The Mysterious Diarist. He really helps me connect the lines to Daniel Elkins and the Colt, saving me a lot of metaphorical legwork. I also like how crochety Mary is. It's a lot of fun to write.
What pleases me: Mary scribbles a directional note in white chalk on the doorframe of yet another room and steps across the threshold. Though everything has been moved and distorted by the fire and the subsequent searchers—as well as the passage of decades—this room (137) looks like it was the center of some kind of activity. More furniture, piled to either side of the door, like they were once a barricade. The door itself is gone, the hinges twisted and snapped and the frame on the other side is scratched. Rotted and rusted fragments of bedding are piled in the back, like a nest.

Mary thinks of her last glimpse of her mother, before Juneau guided her away; screaming and wild-eyed like a Maenad, a Fury, choking the life out of an orderly—a man nearly twice her size. A man with thick, piggish features and a lewdly sensual smile that had raised the hackles on the back of Mary's neck.

The patients rioted, she thinks, toeing aside an ancient and frightful teddy-bear half-consumed in slick green-black fungus. But what were they rioting against?

---

( Are we going to talk about it, or is this just it? )

Genderswap. After talking to girlguidejones, I had the idea for this scene. Since I more than hit my Nano target for the day, I took the time to scribble it down. First draft, so usual disclaimers about quality apply.

This scene follows immediately on from here.

---

( You didn't have any problems fucking me when I had a cock. )

I really wanted to get more done, it being the first day and all, but today was also my check up PET/CT scan to make sure the cancer is really gone and that always wipes me, so I lost several hours to that, a headache so awful it made me cry and a desperately needed nap. Still. I hit target and that's just fine.

2136 / 50000 words. 4% done!

Today's Word Count: 2,136
Current Total Word Count: 55,307
Estimated Total Word Count: ~100,000
What's bad: God, all of it? I forgot how much NaNo makes me feel everything coming out of my fingers SUCKS OUT LOUD.
What's good: That I've been going on despite that? I don't know yet. Ask me tomorrow.
What pleases me: The fact that Mary relies on Dean is no newsflash—there's a reason he calls Dean Mommy's Little Enforcer—but he realizes that he's always seen it as one directional; Mary accepting her son's service like a particularly angry goddess deigning to take the offerings of her priests. Uncomfortably, it occurs to him now that he's the one who's been seeing it one directionally, failing to see Dean as himself, a man and hunter apart from their mother.

I think I'm going to make myself post at midnight or thereabouts each night to record my progress. What's here doesn't match today's word count because, to avoid breaking in the middle of a scene, I backtracked to the scene break. For those keeping track, this chapter correlates to "Asylum". Previous parts are here

( Sam cradles his glass of warming beer between his palms and thinks about how he'd like to talk to someone. )

Tomorrow I'm going to start posting pieces of The Dark Mary saga "And We Are Ashes" and my NaNo word counts. The story is already 50,000 words complete, so if you're planning on following along, you might want to familiarize yourself with the first half of the story. It can be found by:

1. Clicking the "Dark Mary" tag on the right hand side.
2. Going to my memories and looking under "Dark Mary"
3. Going to my memories and looking under "And We Are Ashes".

I'd also like to declare a comment amnesty. I mean...heh. We all know I'm not great at answering comments in a timely manner at the best of time and I've got a lot on my plate this year. I'm trying to curb my opportunities for procrastination. And, as always, don't feel like you have to comment on anything you find here.

Good luck and godspeed. :D

Notes to myself:

( RPS. Circle Verse. )

( More on the Lightverse Halloween Story. )

( Some stuff toward the resolution of Dark Mary )

So NaNo begins in a few days and I'm really kind of sweating it this year. The last two years, I've been so prolific and so solid with my writing...sometimes I had to bust my ass a little harder, but I always came with a pretty steady word count. This year, me and Kink have been like that high school couple that love each other SO MUCH, but they spend all their time breaking and making up, sometimes more than once in a day.

...and maybe I anthropomorphize my muse just a little too much. *koffs* But that's not the point. The point is, I'm going to take shotofjack's sage advice and take a run at the story that I feel would be the most fun to write right now. I'm going to try and finish And We Are Ashes, otherwise known as Dark Mary. Which sounds like a great idea, right? Right. The problem--which is the same problem as before--is that I don't know what to do about the denouement.

Let me explain. ( No. Is too long. Let me sum up. (Contains spoilers for the story) )

"The Jeff Arc" of sundownverse has a title! \o/ "Riding the Tiger"

( spoilery )