So close... so very close...
Nov. 14th, 2010 09:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsukinofaeriiOw. Ow ow. I think I have writer's wrist or some sort of traumatic typing injury. D: I type on a laptop in my comfy chair, which is admittedly not good for preventing carpal tunnel or for supporting the wrists. Not much alternative though. My elbow and wrist now feel funny. Sadpanda
Anyway. Every year on the NaNoWriMo forums, someone posts the five Stages of NaNo. Sometime around 3PM today, I hit stage four: Despair. I kind of hate my story to a thousand tiny pieces right now. I hate my characterization (it is wobbling somewhere between Ults and 616), I hate that I can't bring New York to life the way I did Phoenix (I cannot use googlemaps on dial up), I hate that my plot is so damned jumbled and I hate that I have no fricking clue what happened to Thor. RAWR. My Big Bads are neither big nor bad, and in fact have lost whatever badassitude they had in the first fic. The action scenes? LOL. Blow. And my prose is stiff as hell. I'm already dreading the revisions, because I can easily see having to rewrite more than half of what I have. (headdesk)
TL;DR. Despair.
Luckily, I'm getting to the point where I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. On at least one major plot point, I can follow it from here to dramatic climax. I'm going to have to scrap the idea of a sex scene though. It just is so not happening. Maybe in the revisions. (sigh)
Anyway, my whining is mostly so you know that I whipped myself into a frenzy writing today. I did one of those things where I'd set myself a goal, and then hit it, and then realize how close the next goal was. This kept going until I finally threw down and had a cupcake. A cupcake of FIERCE. And chocolate.
[An hour of arguing HP in AIM with seventy bajillion people later...]
Harry/Draco rules. Trufax.
Anyway lol! Word count today skyrocketed to 47,142, meaning I wrote 7,045 words. WTF is wrong with me? oO; That is 4 daily quotas, and as long as I don't slack, I will hit the big 50k tomorrow. (This is a serious question, because I just saw that the last bit of RR&R has started to be posted, and the proceeded to make catlike yowls of joy.) Also, anecdotally, I'm past 100 pages. And I'm still not at my climax. ._. Not even at the edge of it, actually. Eep. Just how long is this thing going to be? And how much of it is going to get chopped to itty bitty meatballs?
Keep in mind that I hate my story, and that reflects in the writing. Also, I completely have messed up the name of a weapon, and for the life of me cannot figure out what it is actually called. My brain keeps filling in "bandoleer", which is Definitely Not It. (sighs) They are being called ropes for now. If anyone remembers the actual name of the weighted ropes that whirl around and trap people's legs, I'd appreciate knowing?
Anyway. Every year on the NaNoWriMo forums, someone posts the five Stages of NaNo. Sometime around 3PM today, I hit stage four: Despair. I kind of hate my story to a thousand tiny pieces right now. I hate my characterization (it is wobbling somewhere between Ults and 616), I hate that I can't bring New York to life the way I did Phoenix (I cannot use googlemaps on dial up), I hate that my plot is so damned jumbled and I hate that I have no fricking clue what happened to Thor. RAWR. My Big Bads are neither big nor bad, and in fact have lost whatever badassitude they had in the first fic. The action scenes? LOL. Blow. And my prose is stiff as hell. I'm already dreading the revisions, because I can easily see having to rewrite more than half of what I have. (headdesk)
TL;DR. Despair.
Luckily, I'm getting to the point where I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. On at least one major plot point, I can follow it from here to dramatic climax. I'm going to have to scrap the idea of a sex scene though. It just is so not happening. Maybe in the revisions. (sigh)
Anyway, my whining is mostly so you know that I whipped myself into a frenzy writing today. I did one of those things where I'd set myself a goal, and then hit it, and then realize how close the next goal was. This kept going until I finally threw down and had a cupcake. A cupcake of FIERCE. And chocolate.
[An hour of arguing HP in AIM with seventy bajillion people later...]
Harry/Draco rules. Trufax.
Anyway lol! Word count today skyrocketed to 47,142, meaning I wrote 7,045 words. WTF is wrong with me? oO; That is 4 daily quotas, and as long as I don't slack, I will hit the big 50k tomorrow. (This is a serious question, because I just saw that the last bit of RR&R has started to be posted, and the proceeded to make catlike yowls of joy.) Also, anecdotally, I'm past 100 pages. And I'm still not at my climax. ._. Not even at the edge of it, actually. Eep. Just how long is this thing going to be? And how much of it is going to get chopped to itty bitty meatballs?
Keep in mind that I hate my story, and that reflects in the writing. Also, I completely have messed up the name of a weapon, and for the life of me cannot figure out what it is actually called. My brain keeps filling in "bandoleer", which is Definitely Not It. (sighs) They are being called ropes for now. If anyone remembers the actual name of the weighted ropes that whirl around and trap people's legs, I'd appreciate knowing?
White blond curls fell into her eyes as she shook her head. "Keep her safe. Have her sent to Jamestown. Lady Celicia and I shall deal with her there."
Erika nodded and turned to run. Ezrabet thought about calling the child back and calling her to task for the rudeness, then changed her mind. If she spent her time attempting to make human children behave with manners, she would waste an eternity with nothing to show for the time spent.
Maybe she should take the children under her wing. Caine had encouraged his children and grandchildren to be coarse and rude. It is time to instill some grace back into the blood.
Shaking his head, Steve tried to straighten. "Sorry. I just had to check on something."
"I see." Sharp teeth flashed behind Tony's lips as he smiled. It was amazing how slight the difference was, and how efficient such a small change could make them. "You could have asked me if you wanted to see something."
"You mean like Potts being off doing 'Peppery things'?" Steve asked, jerking his chin at the monitor, and Tony winced.
"Okay, you got me." Tony leaned forward and grasped Steve's hand, expression intent. "I lied about Pepper. She's doing an errand for me."
"You expect me to buy that?" Steve demanded. He squeezed Tony's hand, gratified when he was able to make Tony wince. "What sort of errand, Stark?"
One of the rope arrow heads rattled around in Clint's pocket, mixed in with the usual explosives. He felt for the tell-tale marking with his thumb, a raised spider web. He dodged another swing of Steve's feet, kicking his knee out from under him when he tried to get up. Explosive, explosive, tracking—there! Clint grabbed it out of his pocket and triggered it. The silk cord slithered out of its capsule. Tossing it to Tony, he threw himself on Steve's legs and tried to find the other one.
"What the hell is going on?" Jan demanded, fluttering overhead. She, too was naked. Maybe it's naked day and no one told me.
"Hallucinations!" Clint told her. Pain cracked through his head as he was slammed into the wall. "Thinks we're Nazis! Stun him! The ropes won't hold for long!"
Tony. A small wiggle let him angle himself to see Tony's knee. "Yeah, I'm awake. What happened?"
"Busted down the door." Tony's hand rested against the back of his leg, massaging. His voice was soft, tired. "You're welcome to say that you told me so. I don't mind."
"I told you so." Another squirm, and Steve figured out how to rock himself all the way onto his side, letting him get a good look at Tony. "Did I hurt anyone?"
"My pride." There were lines around Tony's eyes that hadn't been there before when he leaned down to look at Steve's face. "Think you can keep it together if I let you free? Jan thinks you should eat something, and Clint managed to wrangle food out of the kitchen."
no subject
Date: 2010-11-15 08:32 am (UTC)steve's hallucination-sickness is still going on?
no subject
Date: 2010-11-15 03:53 pm (UTC)Yep. (eyes him) Which is part of the frustration, TBH. :| I will persevere! And then I will end up posting a million pages of cuts, because they taste of burning.