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Piig’s Challenge Day 5

Project: 750 words daily writing

Wordcount: 775

Beverage: Super weak americano

Morale: Medium

…she reached for it. Into the fog of memories from before the day she woke up in her present body. It was easier, at least, here in the dark and quiet. Traffic shushed outside, and somewhere blocks away a dumpster slammed shut. It was quiet enough. She sat up beside Lana and tipped her head back. She pictured herself floating in a big black ocean, holding her arms out for the current.

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Piig’s Challenge Day 3

Project: 750 words daily writing

Wordcount: 245

Beverage: Water

Morale: Something is better than nothing

Piig’s Challenge Day 2

Forgot to post this on Friday!

Project: 750 words daily writing

Wordcount: 210

Beverage: Coffee with baileys

Morale: Very high

Excerpt:

Sometimes Anna wasn't sure she was dead. It worried her.

Piig’s Challenge Day 1

Project: 750 words daily writing

Wordcount: 753

Beverage: Water (pre-gym hydration!)

Morale: Cautiously optimistic

Excerpt:

As much as she loved her top hat and wig, it was far easier to convince people of those four extra years when she wasn't wearing them. So today it was just the suit, tie, and close cropped hair. Her scalp felt cold in the air conditioned pub.

selinasdalton

Justice Smith for Teen Vogue

#adorable #congrats on your face #imma put you in my NaNo since I need a new POV character

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Guess who I’ve just stuck in my Nano? Except beardy, browner, and SO FEMME \o/

I don’t normally do celeb look-alikes for characters but this was too perfect. You guys have any?

#fleef #lol accidently put this on my personal blog first

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ONE WEEK TO NANO

COMMENCE PANICKING

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AAAAAGH.

#the other one

ONE WEEK TO NANO

COMMENCE PANICKING

#i forget what my tag was #fleef

Editing!

Added 500 words to a scene, smoothed a transition, and made some character decisions make more sense.

#piig

From the “Ladies of Netflix Marvel go to Starfleet Academy AU” wip

Karen Page crouched against a wall that shook with enemy gunfire, her rifle jammed into her stomach and her teeth clenched against frustration.

They were taking fire from above and on the ground, and damn whoever on her squad had given the enemy the chance to get up high. The blasted out ruins were providing enough cover, for now, but they were pinned down.

Through the smoke, Karen saw her second in command darting around the rubble, dodging gunfire and snarling. She crashed into the wall next to Karen, panting.

“Report!” Karen barked. Another barrage made the wall shake.

Trish Walker slammed another power cell into her rifle. “Two high, with scopes. One left on the ground—Knight scragged the other one. Peace Lily’s trying to get behind them, but it’s a fucking Hail Mary if you ask me.”

“Don’t call her that, she hates it.”

“She can file a complaint if we don’t die.” Walker popped up and opened up her rifle at the enemy soldiers in base, then threw herself down as they returned fire.

“Damn it,” muttered Karen, her blue-blond falling into her eyes. “Ok. You and Misty hit the snipers with everything you got. The one on the ground is mine. I’ll meet up with Robyn if I can.”

“Show your fucking colours or she’ll kill you by accident. She got her hands on a fucking Daqtagh.” Walker pulled Karen’s blue bandana, which had slipped down her neck, back up over her forehead.

Karen pulled a knife from her thigh holster and flicked the lever that made the secondary blades pop out and gleam wickedly. “Who do you think gave it to her? Ready?”

Walker made hand signals at something that Karen couldn’t see. After a second, what she’d taken to be a piece of rubble, nodded, and in the gloom, she saw the infinitesimal glow of Misty’s power cell charging. “Ready,” Walker said, and hefted her rifle to give covering fire.

Karen blew out a few steadying breaths, lifted her gun, and vaulted the wall.

“Computer, end program.”

The stone disappeared under her feet.

#the other one

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Have finished a pass of note-making on the Novel That Will Not Be Completed. Now two scenes in on actually resolving all the notes. EDITING.

#Piig

Leverage wip

Okay even *that* doesn’t quite cover it. The hired goons were shaven-headed white boys, the kind whose families had a favourite lynching-tree, and they hulked in a wall before the exit in a near-visible fog of Axe body spray and debt-driven desperation. Elliot cracked his neck and nudged Hardison with his elbow. "Wanna fuck?” Jittering with adrenaline and running eighty different disaster-scenarios in his head and focussing on the *clear and present danger* swinging rusty chains and a fucking tire-iron at them–all of that–Hardison had to do a double-take. “Ex*queeze* me?” That impatient grimacing scowl Elliot hid all his affection behind. “You heard me. After the fight. You wanna fuck?” “Just–just to be clear now, you mean you and me? You want me and you to–to do the Dirty Harry? You want *me?*” Elliot showed the edges of his teeth. “Well I certainly ain’t after any a *them*.”

#fleef

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The Second Book is now one and a half scenes long, 1,500 words. Bickering has commenced, and a character is in peril.

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LET THE BICKERING BEGIN \o/

The Second Book is now one and a half scenes long, 1,500 words. Bickering has commenced, and a character is in peril.

Spent a few hours this afternoon performing major plot surgery on the west-indian magic realism short. Cut the legs off at the knee and I'm giving it longer legs and a bigger bottom for a kick-ass end.

#fleef

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*dusts off blog*

Ha haaaaaa deleted more than I wrote today THANK THE SCRIVENER-GOD FOR SNAPSHOTS

#fleef #or whatever the fuck my tag is #we do tag these right?

I have finished yet another draft of That Wretched Novella and I've printed it out. I don't wanna look at it yet but I've been carrying it around.

#fleef

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