02/01/2009

I hope to have some news I can share in the next few days.  Stay tuned.

With the Superbowl tonight and basketball yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I’d even come close to my goals.

Last week’s goals:

1. Character interview at Ginger Simpson’s blog for “Bring a Character to Blog Week” starting today.  My post (the interview with Ruin, The Rock) is set to post Tuesday morning.  DONE.
2. Write up some kind of intriguing post for the first Drollerie Press blog tour on 1/31/2009.  DONE.
3. Grow NSR by 13K to make up for shortfall last week.  So close:  12,758!  I’ll take it. 
4. Plot 7Crows to position myself for a novella month in February.  FAIL.  I’ve got tons of good characterization done, but haven’t worked any more on the plot.

Goals for this week:

1. Take a look at my NSR day sheet and decide if I’m going to keep Dr. Charles Merritt’s POV or not.  I can’t remember how many scenes of his I kept in the previous 200 pages or so.  I also have a timing problem with another character.  I planned to have him in Dallas for the final showdown, but events are spinning out faster than I anticipated in revision.  He might not make it out of Guatemala, and maybe that’s okay.  Dark & Early this morning, I reviewed my day sheet and looked at the revision draft.  I’ve only included one section in Charlie’s POV so far.  Easy to axe.  So for now, I won’t add any more in his POV.  If I get to a scene that is missing something because of that, I can always go back and add him later.  I may offer those Xibalba scenes later as “DVD extras” or something.  Now to figure out Rafe’s timing.  I have a feeling he’ll stay put in Guatemala and the story won’t care one way or the other.
2. NSR:  at least another 10K in revision.
3. Plot 7Crows.
4. Begin first draft of 7Crows.

I’ll post February goals shortly.

Snippet:  Tonight, I edited the midpoint reversal.  In fact, my protagonist dies.  Sort of.  Almost.   

Warmth gushed down Jaid’s chest.  It took her a moment to realize it was blood.  Her blood.  There was no pain, just this fountain of red splashing against the black glassy rock.  She fought the weariness suffusing her limbs.  The knife came down again and she braced for pain, but with a tug, the leather strap of her carryall fell down.

Her notes.  He was taking her research, her life’s work. 

She struggled to chase him, but she couldn’t control her limbs.  Her arms and legs refused to move, as though the puppet strings had been sliced.  Madelyn fell to her knees beside her, but Jaid couldn’t make sense of her words.  She didn’t hear anything over the roaring in her ears.

Gone.  Her research was gone.  Too much blood.  Dad was trapped.  Demons were free because of her research, which was now in the hands of a deranged man willing to do anything to end his torment.  Darkness closed in.  She fought to keep her eyes open, her mind working, her heart beating.  She couldn’t go.  Not yet.  She still had too much to do.

Hands rolled her over.  She blinked hard, forcing her eyes to focus.  Ruin leaned over her, his eyes blazing.  His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him.  She remembered his mouth, the taste of him, the solid press of his body against hers.  He would have rocked her world.  Devastated her resolve.  Ruined her careful attempts to protect her heart.

Ruin.  It almost made her smile.