I did not write at all for Monday. I took a day off. The story was starting to suffer. Starting to suffer worse, that is since this is my first novel ever, and I am doing it 100 percent pantser style. No outline or even forethought (except what I get away with in the shower, walking the dog, etc).
That said, there is a deadline, so I doubled down today with 3491 words. I wrote it all in one sitting and my neck hurts!
Total word count now is 25097. Past the halfway mark!
I offered a sample on day one, so I thought it would be interesting to offer a sample two weeks later. This part I like a lot better than my original offering as it is more in my style and interests even though I don’t think the writing is technically better than my first offering. I went off the rails today (literally) and it is really hard to make first drafts clean when you go off the map. Actually I went completely nuts here.
Saim went back to watching the stars peak out from their cloud-veils. The instrument Gangia played produced hollow lilting sounds that were at once sorrowful and, somehow, hopeful. Or maybe that was the melody Gangia played. But Saim liked it. It seemed to tell a story in its notes that played itself out in front of Saim’s imagination’s eye. After a moment of being lost in that tonal landscape he noticed Gangia lay back upon the earth with his elbows sticking out to his sides as he continued to play. Saim also laid back and returned to the tonal fantasy before his head reached the earth.
He was upon a gentle mare in tall grass bent in the rushing wind. In the distance he saw a rider approach, the rider’s hair, long and icy blonde flowed with the grass as did the horse’s mane. This person, this woman approaching, he did not know, but somehow he greatly anticipated it as if he had for so long he could not remember.
How long have I waited for you?
Forever and a day, she said. She said it as if in front of him yet she were still far off across the field. Yet this did not trouble him.
And then she was there in front of him. He had reached his goal. Is this what the thing they call love feels like? He wondered. Or was this something else? She was sitting straight in her saddle looking at him with an open look, waiting for him to speak further. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, yet her eyebrows, fair and slight, were darker. Her eyes were kindness and deep ocean blue and her features were abstractions of daintiness and symmetry. She wore a long thin white dress with a cropped front – but modestly so. She should have been freezing in the breeze that rolled along the plains but she did not seem to notice.
Then something terrible began to happen. She was receding away – and growing thick facial hair-
“Er.. Wha..” Saim thought he was opening his eyes but he saw that they were open all the while. He was looking into the chiseled and bearded face of one of Helbec’s more simian looking men. “He’s almost out.” The man said. How long have I been gone? He thought he asked this but he had not. But it felt to him it had been many hours since Gangia had started to play that instrument.
Then he was back at the base of Mt. Martyrdom and the day was still new. No- it was tomorrow. They weren’t there yet! But what about today then? Today must have been a dream was his last coherent thought in time and object.
And then nothing.
Then a sliver of something. A shaft. A streak. Then a constant. Constant. Constant. Constant. He felt like Continue reading