Stayed up until midnight and wrote hard for just over an hour. 2,043 words. The first day(s) the NaNoWriMo site is usually down or really slow, so I won’t try to update my official word count until later.
Each day, I’ll include a line or small snippet from my project, Return to Shanhasson. This is the opening line, subject to at least a dozen revisions.
Blessed Lady above, if these vipers are my allies, then I am already doomed to Shadow.
Final word count for day 1: 2797
At 4:30 this afternoon, I turned over my last signoff for the last component of the project I had to finish for the Evil Day Job before I could start my vacation. I didn’t have a lunch, didn’t go with That Man to pick up the kids, and crammed straight through, but I made it! Yeehaw! I’m free for a four-day weekend!
Now I’m spending the evening prepping madly for NaNoWriMo. My tools so far:
So now while That Man zones in front of the TV, I will jot notes on my cards and see how many scenes I can get…. I’m going to try and stay up until midnight and get at least a couple of hundred words down to say I started.
Let the NaNoWriMo mania begin!
A few years ago, Paperback Writer held a free e-book challenge at Halloween, so I thought I’d try to continue the tradition. This is the short story I mentioned earlier in the week, set in the Mythomorphoses world. For length reasons (the place I hope will take it as free promo for Beautiful Death only wants 2k), it’s rather short, but eventually I’ll probably expand it. The “end” of this story is just getting to the good stuff. 
PROMETHEUS UNBOUND
A Tale of Mythomorphoses
In the laboratory bowels of Olympus, Prometheus suffered for his transgression. Once a scientist himself, he had sought to expose the secret of exactly what sort of research occurred in Zeus’s labs. In punishment, Zeus had injected him with his latest, greatest experiment.
CEO of MedCorp and founder of New Olympia, Zeus needed no chains to hold Prometheus prisoner while a giant eagle feasted on his liver. The eagle was eating him from the inside out. Few could look at him without fleeing in revulsion. Soon he would be merely another caged pet in Zeus’s personal menagerie.
Death was Prometheus’s only hope, and the newest specimen chained to the copper-topped exam table would be the quickest route.
“What a rare find.” Zeus’s voice shook with reverence. “A pure-bred Macedonian female. I thought they’d all died in the pandemic outbreak. What is your name, lovely creature?”
Even if she’d been willing to respond, Prometheus doubted she would have been able, not with such suffering twisting her body. Their alien visitors were incredibly sensitive to Earth’s metals. Her delicate skin was already charred from the metal. Soon, blood would run freely, dripping onto the pristine white floors, and no amount of pride and majestic power would keep her from screaming for mercy.
Prometheus couldn’t bear to see it happen again, even if he wasn’t the one committing such horrors.
“Prep her,” Zeus ordered without even sparing a glance in his direction. “See if your inhuman appearance will gain her confidence.”
Alone with the beautiful Macedonian, Prometheus stepped closer to the table and let her get a good look at his warped features.
Her large, tilted eyes glittered like dewy spider webs in the morning sunlight, wild with pain and desperation. Night-black hair tumbled to the floor, delicate strands floating about her triangular face like wispy oceanic fronds. Deceptively delicate in appearance, her species normally possessed enough power to level mighty Olympus. However, Zeus had learned how to incapacitate their powerful alien friends who’d sought refuge from the rioting humans. Imprisoned by so much metal, she couldn’t call her power. Her suffering was merely a side effect as far as Zeus was concerned.
A twinge in Prometheus’s gut warned him seconds before an attack. Bowing his head, he gripped the edge of the table. Talons shredded his internal organs, a vicious beak tore at his heart, and massive wings beat furiously, straining to break free of his body’s cage. His knees buckled. His skin blazed with pricks of fire, fresh feathers spiking out of his flesh, dotting his back, shoulders, and arms.
In misery, he pressed his head to the cold table. Zeus had cursed him well indeed. The eagle was closer than ever to swallowing him whole.
“I can help you,” the Macedonian whispered, her voice as soft and light as her hair.
Startled, Prometheus forced himself upright. She looked upon him with pity, not revulsion, even though more feathers had sprouted from his body.
“Free me. We’ll flee this place together.”
“I cannot leave,” Prometheus whispered. His guilt held him prisoner as much as the microchip embedded in his skull. Zeus would track him wherever he fled. If Prometheus left with her, he would merely lead Zeus to her sanctuary. “What do you need to restore your power?”
“Blood first.” She shivered, her eyes darkening with hunger. “Then your lifeforce. After such a feeding, my power will rise enough for me to break free.”
He pushed himself up, leaning heavily against the table as though still weakened. It would be like Zeus to secretly watch his specimens interact. Prometheus let his arms tremble with weariness and fell against her. “Take what you need and flee.”
Braced for the immediate pain of her fangs, he groaned at the tender brush of her lips on his skin. Her tongue stroked the thumping vein in his neck and she made a low, glorious sound of pleasure deep in her throat. Despite the urgency and danger, she treasured his sacrifice. She proved she wasn’t afraid to touch him, to revel in his scent and taste.
In case Zeus was watching, he pretended to push away only to flop weakly back to the table. He let his head loll and used his broad shoulders and tufted feathers to block whatever view the cruel perverted bastard might have.
At last, she bit deeply. Pleasure-pain jolted through him, heat flaring in his body as though she breathed fire into his bloodstream. The morphing creature inside him beat wings furiously, trying to lift them both from this prison of steel and technology. A scent of high alpine fields full of night-blooming flowers filled his nose. Her power slid inside him, velvety shadows, dark, cool, and fresh like nothing he’d felt in an eternity, certainly never since becoming a citizen of New Olympia.
The pure, sweet scent of night enfolded him.
Take it all, he whispered in his head, surrendering to the blackness wrapped around him. End my suffering.
Midnight velvet swelled higher, cresting within his mind. She flipped through his memories, laying his soul bare and bleeding. He tried to pull back in shame, but she held him firm, seeing all the dread experiments in which he’d participated until he’d rebelled. He’d tried to escape, only to wake screaming on Zeus’s exam table.
Electric shocks buzzed in his head. A tendril of her power touched the microchip and his body shorted out, convulsed, throwing him to the floor.
#
Rich velvet shadows still enfolded him, but he heard a strange chirping noise. It took several moments before his mind registered the long-forgotten sound of crickets.
There were no bugs inside perfect, sterile New Olympia, unless one counted the butterfly garden in Athens. He must be dreaming. Or dead.
He opened his eyes and stared up at a black canvas dotted with diamonds. The sweet scent still wafted around him, tantalizing his starved senses. Strands of fragile web tickled his cheek.
Turning his head, he met the Macedonian’s gaze. Her midnight hair brushed his cheek again and he trembled. “Where are we?”
“You’re in my domain now.” She tilted her head, letting her hair slide across her cheek to partially obscure her face. Shadows clothed her body, but what he could see of her limbs confirmed she now possessed enough power to heal herself. “I know you wished me to kill you, but I couldn’t bear to harm you. I certainly refused to leave you trapped while I escaped. He never would have allowed you to die.”
After years of research, Zeus could prevent the escape of death indefinitely. All in the name of science, of course. A little torture was required to improve the human race.
“I apologize for the pain you felt when I disabled the chip,” she continued. “I couldn’t remove it entirely, but you’re free from Zeus’s monitoring.”
Prometheus sagged back to the ground, the diamond-studded sky blurring in his tears.
Concerned, she rose up over him, her fine, delicate hair sending shivers through his body. “What is it? Do you still have pain?”
“I’m free,” he whispered, his throat raw. “You saved me.”
She smiled, but she kept her face partially hidden and she didn’t touch him. She waited for some response, and he feared that if he gave the wrong answer–to this question he didn’t even know–that he would never see her again.
The eagle stretched out its wings and he gasped, involuntarily tensing. Yet the pain didn’t tear through his gut.
“Zeus infected you with an odd strain of the virus but managed to retard your full transformation. If you continue in this manner, your beast will kill you both in its struggle for freedom.”
Any other person saying “beast” would have driven him away in shame. She said it calmly as though unbothered by his contamination, while New Olympian Marshals would hunt him down without a second thought.
“I can bring you fully through the transformation.”
Prometheus fisted his hands, trying to hide his trembling. “I don’t want to be a monster. I would rather die.”
“Oh.” The small sound escaped her lips, barely loudly enough for him to hear. She turned away, fully hiding beneath her starlit hair and shadows. “Then I’m a monster to you, too.”
“No!” He jerked upright and forgot his own ugliness enough to clutch her hand. “You’re so beautiful you make my heart hurt.”
“I tasted both your blood and your lifeforce,” she whispered. “Your kind revile us as the bringers of destruction. You blame us for destroying your civilization with the virus.”
The eagle’s instinct roared to life, screaming a piercing warning to any who dared harm her. Perhaps Zeus’s punishment could be used for good. As an eagle, he could soar the skies and alert her to any approaching danger. Gently, he slipped his fingers beneath her chin and turned her gaze back to his. Now that her power had returned, her eyes flashed like faceted obsidian. “I will protect you.”
Her lips quirked. “Who carried you out of Olympus?”
Startled, he glanced about the clearing at the ring of wild trees, green grass, and open sky, and finally realized they were indeed Outside. No biodome stretched overhead. This slender female had freed herself and dragged his dead weight through miles of underground laboratories and tunnels, unerringly finding her way out of New Olympia.
His shock made her laugh out loud, a tinkling chime that wiped away his consternation until he laughed with her.
Lightly, she cupped his cheek and stared into his eyes, her expression turning solemn. “I would bond you. I would be skyr to your beast, master to your eagle. I would control your transformation and aid you in shifting back to human form at will. You would not be the mindless animal you fear, but you would wear a leash that only I will hold. Can you trust me enough to allow this hold on your soul?”
Hope burned in his heart for something other than death. He didn’t turn away; instead, he showed his guilt and shame, reflected a million times in her mirrored eyes. “I participated in research on your people. When the surviving humans turned on them, they came to Olympus for help. We caged, dissected, and eventually killed them after we eeked out enough for Zeus’s interest. How can you forgive me?”
“I suffered. You suffered.” She ran her fingers through the feathers spiked across his shoulders and he shuddered in response. “I believe you’ve suffered enough.” Letting some of her shadows fall away, she revealed her upper body, gleaming opal against the black velvet of her hair. “Can we not find solace in one another?”
He bowed his head until his forehead touched hers. Her scent ripened, intoxicating, her lush power wrapped around him, caging his heart like no other. For once, he didn’t fear the chains she offered. “Bond me, skyr. I’m yours.”
With renewed hunger, her eyes fired like spinning jewels beneath the night sky. “The New Olympian name I took is Nyx.”
His heartbeat quickened, his fingers tightening on her face. Swift silent night: what a perfect name for her. “I’ll wear your leash, Nyx. What do you need?”
“I need you to take my blood and complete the bond you began to enable our escape.”
Ceasing its flailing punishment, the eagle within him perked. “Is that all?”
She didn’t seem to mind his ragged voice or stirring need. She pushed him flat on his back and he went, willingly. Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she smiled down at him. “My blood is only the beginning.”
And so Prometheus found himself freed and then most delightfully bound once more.
I’ve made it semi-dark and early two days in a row but I don’t have a lot to report. I’m editing previously written sections and smoothing old and new together. Night Sun Rising is up to 106 pages and I’m getting ready to decide what section kicks off Chapter 6.
We’ve had another scare with Middle Monster. She threw up in her bed again the other night, but didn’t wake up. No one knew she’d thrown up. Of course, immediately I envisioned her choking to death in her sleep. We bought a baby monitor (our old one was sold in a yard sale years ago) last night, but it picked up every little sound with tons of static, and the bunk beds are really, really squeaky. At 1 AM, That Man finally turned the damned thing off so we could sleep. I checked her as soon as I got up this morning and all is well. We’ll have to tinker with the channel and placement of the monitor so it’s not quite so annoying, yet can still protect her if she does get sick again.
The Evil Day Job is really ramping up this week. I’ve got a project to turn over for testing by the end of this week and more demands on an even larger one that have waited while I get this other one done, and a little project that has delicate timing moving into production on Monday. Oh, and I’m out two days next week, which throws a monkey wrench into everything. It’s amazing, I still have to get my work done even if I’m not in the office. I still have obligations and deadlines, but now even less time to meet them.
And then I wonder why I still have 120+ hours of vacation to use.
Last night, I finished up the new Mythomorphoses short story, “Prometheus Unbound.” It could be longer than 2K — easily! — but that’s the requested length. Maybe I’ll start with this piece and then write a “sequel” to give away on the blog. I’ll work on some ideas tonight.
Dark & Early this morning I returned to Revision Xibalba. I finished up the scene I’d been working on and then went back to the beginning and fixed a few early scenes to better reflect hers and Larry’s static traits. They sort of sneak up on me as I write the plot out, which probably isn’t the way to do it, but it works. Most of the time. I still have about 3 of her sections that will need slight modifications. Then it’s back to Jaid’s story line. I also need to explore Quinn’s line up through the intersection.
All by NaNoWriMo if possible. Sigh. 
On the monster front, I think they’ll all go to school today except Princess Monster.
I thought Middle Monster was mostly better, but she was up at 4:00 a.m. throwing up again, now joined by Princess Monster and That Man. Of course, it was one of those nights for me where I simply could not get my brain to shut up, where I wasn’t even sure I ever fell asleep (I know I did, but I was awake every 20-30 minutes).
Needless to say, it was a hot tea morning Dark & Early instead of coffee. I don’t think the plague is getting to me, rather just a long sleepless night.
I didn’t title this “Revision Xibalba” even though I was up writing, because I didn’t work on the Mayan story. I finally got a bit of an idea for a short story set in the Beautiful Death Mythomorphoses world. Well, short story may be stretching the truth a bit. It’s a “scene” at least. I have characters and I know their goals. Whether it makes a satisfying short story, or morphs into something else entirely, I don’t know yet.
I also began plotting (loosely) the beginning of Return to Shanhasson for NaNoWriMo. Although I began second guessing myself and wondering if I should try to write Charon’s story instead. I *know* Return very well, except for the beginning. I know only a vague beginning to Charon’s story and nothing after. So Return will definitely be easiest to write fast. I do need to get the next book done in the other world, though, or Sis is going to hunt me down… (Charon is her favorite character)
The monsters are out of school today, so That Man and I both took the day off. We had a whole slew of stuff planned: zoo, maybe a haunted house trip for Princess Monster, shopping, you name it.
However, someone woke me up Dark & Early this morning (when I planned to sleep in) because she’d thrown up in her bed. She threw up again later, and then started running at both ends. She didn’t make it to the toilet for one of those either. Poor little monster is not feeling well at all, and our fun trip day has turned into smelly laundry day.
P.S. As if there was any doubt, the monster in question is Middle Monster.
Good progress today. I was up, drinking coffee, and working by 5:30 this morning, instead of dragging myself out of bed at that time. I finished yesterday’s scene (somewhere between 300-400 words — I didn’t record exact word count yesterday) and then started the next. Another 887 words there. The murder is getting ready to happen. I think her weapon may be a simple ink pen but I’m open to ideas. It has to fit into the pocket of her white lab coat.
I may have to put this murder scene back in that original section. I’ll have to see how it plays out. The murder is what brings the FBI closer to the truth — and I can’t wait too long for Quinn and Tara’s threads to cross. I think this will work fine, but I need to play it out.
i’m 90% finished with my Eppie reading, too.
Still searching for a short story idea. I think I need to pull out some paper and just brainstorm until something strikes my fancy. My problem is that there are too many possibilities floating around in my mind. Ideally, this would be in the Beautiful Death world, but I’m tempted to explore Equus instead, which will do nothing promo wise since that story’s not even started yet!
I’m going to date myself by admitting that Top Gun was a huge hit when I was in high school. I had a friend who always quoted the title of this entry as we did the high and low five.
I’m feeling the need for speed. Aren’t you?
Since NaNoWriMo is just around the corner and I’m slowly working my way back up to my 1K min in my Dark & Early session, I thought I’d do a quick checklist for myself as much as you on ways to get and keep the word production up.
1. Set clear, attainable, incremental goals. Something like “I want to write 1K in 1 hour” is good, where “I want to write 5K today” may not be as manageable unless you define a careful strategy to reach that goal. Can you actually write 5K in a single day? Do you actually have all day? Goal setting is a whole nother blog post, so I won’t go into endless detail, but I do feel strongly that setting goals is an important strategy for increasing speed.
Side note: Don’t let your overachiever out when setting goals. I’m the worst at setting pie-in-the-sky impossible goals. (e.g. I want to finish Revision Xibalba in a single month!) It’s much better to build your ego and confidence with small goals that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt you can reach. Plus, then you earn rewards! Which leads to:
2. Plan simple rewards for hitting each mini and daily goal. For example, I have a goal that says I don’t get to read my blog feeds in the morning until I write 1K. I need my Paperback Writer fix!
3. Plan your schedule to meet your goals. It doesn’t do any good to say “I want to write 1K today” if you don’t know when or how you’ll actually be able to write.
For me, that means laying out all my clothes the night before in the bathroom so I don’t wake up That Man. I also prep my coffee pot and set out my favorite coffee cup. I have an inspiring playlist (that varies by project) on Napster that I simply bring up and play. Lastly but the most important for me personally, is a plan to “meet” my accountability partner online. If I know she’s going to be up and wondering where the heck I am, then that helps me get up when the alarm goes off Dark & Early.
3. Take breaks. This might seem counter-intuitive, and I sheepishly admit this is one I try to weasle out of if given half the chance. When I’m in the flow, the last thing I want to do is take a break. However, my wrists and shoulders certainly thank me, even if I just pause for 5 minutes to refill my cup and do a few stretches.
4. Eliminate distractions. Don’t bring up your e-mail, because then if it dings or you notice you have an unread message, well, duh, you’ll want to read it. Work with your family and friends so they know your scheduled writing time is important and sacred. (That’s why I get up Dark & Early — no one else is up.)
5. Use a notebook. This is something I learned from Fast Draft (link below). A notebook helps me avoid endless time sinks.
Don’t fall into the trap of Googling something “quick” while writing, because it’s super easy to get sucked into way too much internet time. Nothing ticks me off more in the morning than making that mistake and looking up to see that it’s time to go to work or get the family up — my writing time has simply disappeared.
For me personally, the writing by hand is very important. It frees me from the computer and helps tap into another area of my brain.
6. Don’t stall yourself. If a scene isn’t going well, make a note and skip it. There’s no law of the universe that says you have to get every scene fully perfect first. Little things can mess up a perfectionist, like struggling to find the right word, the best opening line, the perfect end-of-chapter hook. Don’t! Don’t stress out about being “perfect.” That’s what [notes to yourself] and the notebook are for, like:
These are all examples of notes I’ve written to myself and MOVED ON.
You can fix ANYTHING. Later. Nobody is going to see this draft unless you choose to send it to them. If it’s a mess, who cares? The most important thing is to finish. Get the story down. It’s a given assumption that you will have to revise. However, it does not make sense to revise a story that is not finished.
7. Take care of yourself. Don’t only drink your favorite caffeinated beverage — make sure you’re getting enough fluids. Sometimes I want to graze while I write — hello, low fat microwave popcorn instead of chips. The new thing I’m doing this year is to plan a walk, even if it’s only 20 minutes, every day. When I’m working the Evil Day Job, I don’t always make it (meetings, urgent issues), but I have 9 vacation days planned in Nov. and there’s no excuse. I *will* walk those days.
Helpful Links:
Do any of you have recommendations for meeting your need for speed and increasing your writing production? Please share in comments!
Last night we had parent teacher conferences. The monsters are all doing well, although Middle Monster’s teacher had some very colorful stories to share about her. She hadn’t heard the one about MM trying to start a campfire at recess, though. She rubbed sticks together so hard, for so long, that she smelled smoke. It’s my fault — she got the idea from Survivor. 
I didn’t write last night, but I did read several chapters in my next-to-last Eppie assignment. 85% done!
This morning, D&E once more, and another 1083 words in a Tara scene. I’m glad I decided to just write out her “thread” as far as possible instead of trying to write in true section order in the scope of the whole book. Maybe I’ll do the same for Quinn too — these two threads intersect very soon.
I’ve got several things on my mind, even beyond Return to Shanhasson for NaNoWriMo. I would like to write up a checklist for speed — for my own reference as much as yours. And I’d like to write a couple of short free giveaway stories. The problem is coming up with a real STORY in 2K or so with appropriate character growth, conflict, etc. I haven’t come across the right set up yet, so I’m treating this as a personal challenge. I WILL come up with something.
Eventually.
