Today is the first day of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I didn’t write at midnight nor did I get up particularly early. I did, however, garner some moral support by posting a virtual write-in on my Facebook writer’s group. Three members got on with me and we wrote together for a few hours, dropping off as we had other obligations.
I wrote a total of 1830 words. Normally, I like to front load with a lot more, but I don’t want to over extend myself. Having a general outline and being 30k already into the story, I know where the scene and chapter is going, so it’s fine to stop with plenty more to write. I want to pace myself, and not experience burn out halfway through the month.
Good luck to everyone, and if you don’t make your word count, at least you made words.
Here’s an excerpt from what I wrote:
Realizing I must have been staring, I direct my attention to Velushat. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ve been thinking on it. Sneaking you in won’t work. Glasya’s keep is set upon a hill that overlooks the entire valley, it’s surrounded on all four sides by his military base. There’s no way I can get you past that many demons and back out again without a fight we can’t win.”
I pick at my food. “Then what do you suggest we do?”
“You’re my prisoners. As the law dictates, I’m bringing you to my province’s governor. We’ll go straight past all the guard. No one will suspect me of double crossing Glasya.”
“If we go in as your prisoners, how do you suppose we leave?” I ask, not liking this plan. Demons could be bought, but the stakes are higher.
“You strike a bargain with Glasya. Trust me, they didn’t want to imprison Gabriel. They likely did it to avoid our master learning of their fuck up. I’ll leave it up to you what your bargain may be. I’ll have done what you’ve asked, and that is to get you into Glasya’s keep.”
I scowl, not liking this plan but it’s better than trying to gain entrance on our own.
“I have a good reason why your plan won’t work.,” Phyr says, “She’s supposed to be dead. If demons see her, they will know their lord of light lied, or worse, got fooled by a young witch. Perhaps your master will start thinking she didn’t act alone. He might want a scapegoat. Who else but someone out of his favor will he take into consideration?” He wings one of his perfect black eyebrows as he eyes Velushat.
The demon casts their two pairs of eyes to the ground. They have no response to the clever fae prince. After a few moments of contemplation, Velushat rises and grabs a stick.
Phyr, Niamh, and the familiar, track the demon’s movements like three cats ready to pounce. Lance is wary, but reserved. He likely doesn’t want to move unless absolutely necessary. Rhiannon leans against the were, snoring softly.
Written material ©T.J. Deschamps
Photo by JOSHUA COLEMAN on Unsplash