Saturday, August 10, 2013

WIPMarathon Check-In #1!

Current word count:

I’m currently at 60,520 words, working off a detailed outline! I estimate the book will be a little over 80K when done, but I edit so extensively when I’m writing that it just feels like it’s taking ages to get there!

WIP issues this week:

‘Fear’, as I call it for short, is the most romance-heavy book I’ve written so far! The chapter I worked on this week is quite emotionally charged, with things going from blissful to disastrous for my MC and her sweetheart. He might not have been entirely honest with her about some things, and she hates lying, so… ;) Anyway, my progress was slow as I concentrated on making sure their emotions and reactions were conveyed properly, that I stayed true to their characters, and that the scenes had the impact I wanted.

What I learned this week in writing:

I learned that I had snuck a few too many adverbs into my first chapter—yuck! (They’re gone now. ;)) Enough said!

What distracted me this week while writing:

My mother in law is visiting. She’s from Michigan, and we’re in Virginia, so we really don’t get to see her much. I do wish I’d had more time to write this week, like I’d planned, but family comes first and we’ve been having a great visit! We went antiquing yesterday, and finding old treasures makes me really happy.

Oh, and one of my greyhounds wasn’t eating for days (poor, sweet Khaleesi!). There was a lot of time devoted to tempting her to get back on her kibble, even some bribing with treats, after the vet couldn’t find anything wrong.

Last 200 words:

Well, here goes. I don’t normally share my work, especially not excerpts (shy!), but I hope this is fun to read. In this scene, my MC, Bridey, is confronting the self-proclaimed 'witch', Morag:

“Come inside already, won’t you?” Morag snapped, drawing me out of my frenzied thoughts. “If you carry on watering the ground like that, I’ll have weeds cropping up all over the yard. And then you’ll have to pull them.”
Caught between another sob and a bubble of laughter, I hiccupped. “Thank you, but I should be going. I need to look for—”
“I heard you shouting through the door. I was under the impression you wanted to learn the true story of how my leg was ruined. And I have a tea that’ll calm your nerves.” Morag stepped aside, gesturing toward the dim interior of the cottage. “You don’t want to confront the boy while you’ve got a face like a boiled lobster.”
“Excuse me?” I rubbed one of my cheeks, which was warm to the touch.
“You heard me, lobster-girl. Come on in. If he cares a whit about you, he won’t have gone anywhere.”
I didn’t want to admit that Morag had a point, so I said nothing, and followed her inside.
She puttered around her kitchen, clinking dirty dishes together as she searched for clean mugs for tea.

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