Just passing 28000 words in my NaNo project and finally sex happens. Because the story is set in early 1920’s, in small mining town with a strong Roman Catholic population the sexuality is repressed – something to be done with both partners looking in opposite directions, slightly ashamed of their needs and then praying for forgiveness when it’s over –
Yoda crapped here
I have built up to 2100 words a day and hope to get that up to 2200 by the beginning of next week. Even as I write I sense areas where I can add more description, explanation, but I really want to the basic story down and then go back to add those elements.
I am also a ‘seat-of-the-pants’ writer – I certainly know my story arc but haven’t detailed too much of how to get there. So far each scene I’ve started has taken me in interesting directions, adding shades to the story I hadn’t thought of at first.
in the pink
In the morning I write a 200 word spew to start the scene, then do some reading, come back and generate another 1000 or so words, then go for a walk to let what I’ve written so far simmer, come home for lunch & a coffee, then jump back in for another 1000 or more words.
If I have time after supper I go back into the previous day’s rough draft to clean up typos and do a tiny bit of polish. I keep a list of character names handy at all time because I don’t try to remember all those names all the time. The list also contains words that my dyslexic typing always screws up.
I’m happy with how things have been coming along. Sticking to two p.o.v makes things easier for me. I know there’s been a few pov slips already but I’m not worrying till I get to the edits next summer – why next summer? Because I want to get my last NaNo novel ready for smashwords in the new year first.
In the kitchen Lillian was relieved to see that her uncle had cut wood for her. Most mornings he left that work to her. He had even started a fire in the stove. He sat at the small pine table on the one chair in the room.
“Thank you Father Pat for getting the fire going.” She had learned quickly that her uncle expected gratitude for every thing he did around the house.
“It is my pleasure to be of service.”
She pumped water into the kettle and set it on the stove.
“Tea will be ready shortly.” she told him. “Would you like the Ceylon or the English?”
“The Ceylon I think. Yes, it’s definitely a morning for the Ceylon.”
Lillian put the iron skillet on the stove and greased it lightly. It was quickly warm enough for the one egg and one piece of bacon that her uncle ate every morning with one thick piece of bread. She was to prepare his before she could eat anything. She wasn’t allow the bacon.
The kettle whistled and she poured the water into the tea pot. She was allowed to have a cup of tea with him though. He felt eating in the morning together would be unseemly. Too much what properly married Catholics would do.
She served him his breakfast.
“Now you remember that today is when the union men are coming to speak with me.”
“Yes Unc … I mean Father Pat. Annie and I baked two pies last night.”
“Apple and rhubarb.”
“Yes, as you asked. I also made some of the chicken soup you like.”
“Not too meaty I hope.”
“Good. We want them to know the Lord is bountiful but also that we aren’t foolish with his bounty.” He wiped the last of the egg yolk up with a crust of the bread.
“This is very good bread, Lillian. You have learned very quickly. I’ll never forget that first loaf.” He laughed as she blushed. “I’m still using it as a door stop at the church.”
“God finds a use for everything.” She forced a laugh. It was all she could do not to run from the room to cry.
As he got up she took his plate for her own use. Once he was gone she sat at the table with her egg on a thin slice of bread. She held her breath till she heard the gate swing shut. This meant he was gone. She looked down at the yellow yolk of the egg and screamed. She beat the table with the palms of her hands.
She stopped abruptly and ate her breakfast.