Modest progress today. I didn’t finish all of the new scenes as I’d hoped, but I’m pleased with the 2,225 words I managed to work out. All Dallas threads have converged and the big showdown is iminent. According to my spreadsheet, I only have one more new scene to write, but I think I’ll need 2. I hope that’s it. I’m really not sure what happens other than a vague “bad guy arrives and all hell breaks loose” sort of note to myself.
I made a note about needing to research flamethrowers. Ah, I love this writing gig. When else would I get to find out what kind of gas is used, if it’s pressurized, and whether it’s feasible to have one as small as a foot-long steel pipe? If one doesn’t exist, I need enough details to show the possibility of one as a “secret” R&D sort of government weapon.
I have a few static traits that I thought I’d use — but they haven’t proven important yet. I’m hoping they will magically unfold in these final pages. If not, I’ll either have to axe those traits or tweak my plot until it’s tight and seamless. Quinn might be using a flamethrower, but Tara’s only weapon is an expensive ink pen and she’s severely handicapped by fainting at the sight of blood. Still, I know in a deep gut sort of way that she’s going to play a huge role in the final scene(s).
Plan tomorrow: get the monsters off to school and drive up to Kaldi’s, the coffee shop I used in November, where assuming I end up with an outlet, I’ll write until I finish the new scenes.
Mr. Linkyn slammed his fist down on the table between them so loudly she jumped. “No cross-reference, no boring details, we don’t have the time. Use this one.”
He pointed to a symbol which she’d identified as Ix Chel. Dr. Tennant had said she was the rainbow goddess of fertility and medicine. That didn’t sound so bad.
“We need two,” she said slowly. “We can’t–”
“You know which one,” Mr. Linkyn growled out.
Larry started to tremble but he nodded. Meeting her gaze, he whispered, “All we need is a little blood.”