The Last Storming, my NaNo tale this year, was plotted and planned as an action-packed novella but has, instead, become a rather rambling bunch of nonsense in which I completely disregard most of the world-building I had prided myself on accomplishing before the month began. Almost the entire story has been slow and unexciting, until these past few days. You see, I finally got to the part I wanted to write. The part where everything comes together and the real action begins. Which means I have about four days in which to cram all the fast-paced scenes and heart-clenching moments that TLS was supposed to be all about.
The good news in all this is that my word count has not suffered overmuch. After a period over Thanksgiving week in which I wrote next to nothing and stayed at a relatively nice 38,637, I at last reached the place where all the things I wanted to write were happening, and suddenly realized that in order to finish in time, I was going to have to skip over a good deal of them. So--since it's NaNo, and I can do this in NaNo--I backed out of my story and began narrating sloppily, telling myself, the 'reader', what was happening in order so that other things could happen. Needless to say, this was disappointing.
Since then, even skipping over a lot of heavily wordy and wonderful scenes, I reached what I like to consider a decent 47,091 words as of today. At this point, reaching my word count goal is not the issue. Fitting enough story in before the deadline is more what concerns me.
Excerpt from The Last Storming
(This is the first time Heron and Reise, my two MC's meet each other--although Reise, a professional thief is going by the alias of Elsbette Kuyn. I had a great deal of fun writing this scene, as the two characters get off on the wrong foot, as it were. However, since that moment in time, I have been unable to get this unruly pair to cease stomping on each other's nerves and cooperate--much less become friends. Still, this remains one of my favorite scenes of NaNoWriMo.)
“Why are you following me?” hissed the girl in green as she stepped out in front of him.
“Ah!” The air whooshed out of his lungs in a burst of surprise. “You—”
“Why are you following me?” she asked again. Well, ‘asked’ was putting it mildly. ‘Demanded’ was more suitable in the situation.
Heron stood a moment, staring at her, before realizing he had no good answer. “Um.”
The girl appraised him quickly with her flashing green eyes. “Who are you?”
Still somewhat flabbergasted by the fact that he had found her at all—or that she had found him—he answered dumbly. “Heron.”
A hint of a smile creased the left corner of her mouth. “I know that, already, ‘Mister Heron’.”
He reddened anew at the reminder of his explosion in the Sun House reception area.
“You’re Miss Elsbette, right?”
She considered him. “People generally call me that, yes. Though I don’t think I’m so eager about my name as you are.”
“To get out of there. I was bored.”
This time she gave a genuine smile and Heron was all at once struck by how she contrasted and contradicted herself in her movements, style, and manner. First harsh and belittling, next soft and amused. Her smile lit up her white face, but it failed to quite reach her somber, brilliant eyes.
Heron remembered his manners. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to startle you, or anything. I, I wouldn’t harm you I swear. But, like I said, I was bored and when I saw you…” He realized that whatever he said next would come out wrong and would carry with it all the wrong insinuations so his wisely snapped his mouth shut and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology, Mister Heron. Now, if you please, I am late returning to my aunt.” Her gaze suddenly fell on the baby formula he carried. “Siblings?” she asked.
Glancing down at the bottles, Heron rubbed a hand through his hair. “Something like that.” He slipped them into his pocket.
She shook her head at him. “You are a strange one, Mister Heron. Do you or don’t you need those?”
“Just Heron, please.” His brow furrowed. “I…I have a use for them.”
“Well, Heron. I really must be going. Good eve and good morrow to you.”
He watched her leave with a confused jumble of feelings congregating in his chest. She was a strange girl. He guessed her age to be just a year or so younger than his eighteen, so she would have been of age to go to his same school, though she would not have been in any of his classes, naturally. Still, he should have been able to recognize her from somewhere. He sighed and turned for home, comforted by the knowledge that he would, in the very least, recognize her at their next meeting.
It wasn’t until he had nearly reached home that he realized the bottles of infant formula were gone. As was his wallet.
"Lieshellyk City comes undone when a thief girl and the grandson of its founder form both a friendship and an alliance to discover the truth behind the City's construction, and the truth of the Stormings which keep them bound inside Lieshellyk's dark corridors." ~The Last Storming logline.
Hope you enjoyed and happy writing to everyone in these last few frantic, frenzied days of the month!