Dedication Through Light
Member
WC: 27656
Wrote 4499 words on the plane.
Wrote 4499 words on the plane.
Always weird to me that people write out of order. I mean, it makes sense and is probably what almost everyone does, but I just write start to finish for roughly 99% of it unless I just think of a good scene. It's probably foolish to do it this way.
Always weird to me that people write out of order. I mean, it makes sense and is probably what almost everyone does, but I just write start to finish for roughly 99% of it unless I just think of a good scene. It's probably foolish to do it this way.
Gradually, they made their way into the town, being careful not to appear out of place. The citizens didn’t seem to notice them, as they were more concern with avoiding the gaze of the soldiers that patrolled through the streets. The tallest building they could see was the church; it stood there in the centre, towering above everything else, the fire sitting calmly in its courtyard. The second tallest building, which became their destination, was a large building four or five stories tall. It looked like a hotel, perhaps it was somewhere they could get information on this village. Its name would be the most useful thing they could find out. As they approached the hotel, moving through the cobbled streets, they saw all the lights inside were turned on. As they got even closer, Philip heard laughter coming from inside.
Finally, he thought to himself, joy seemed to exist in some capacity here. They walked through the open doors into the hotel, but as soon as they entered inside, all the gaiety they’d previously heard seemed to dry up in an instant. Inside the building was a group of six German soldiers and one officer playing cards. The place, now that they could see it from the inside, looked abandoned. Chairs were stacked up on every table but the one the Nazis were using to play their game, and there was nobody behind the bar. In fact, there was nobody else at all in the building but them and the Germans.
This place wasn’t a hotel at all, it seemed. From the German presence in the room, and the general sense he felt that they’d co-opted the place for their own purposes, he hazarded a guess that this was the permanent lodging for the soldiers ordered to watch the village. It was unlikely many of the villagers would welcome them with open arms, even if they were French, and they still needed a place to stay. From the amount of soldiers he’d seen walking the streets on the way here; this also seemed like the only building capable of holding them all.
Realizing his grave mistake, Philip turned around and was about to walk through the door when he heard one of the soldiers call out for him to stop. He felt something catch in his throat, making it difficult for him to swallow, as he slowly turned around to look at the Germans. The officer got up from his chair, and approached him.
I think that this describes my mindset/work method better.Always weird to me that people write out of order. I mean, it makes sense and is probably what almost everyone does, but I just write start to finish for roughly 99% of it unless I just think of a good scene. It's probably foolish to do it this way.
I've wondered for a while how one might go about writing a story told out of sequence, but it's not really something I've committed to attempting as of yet.I can't keep things straight in my head unless I write chronologically. But like you say, everyone's got their process.
By the way, I was wondering if this is happening to anybody else, but it seems that as the month goes on, the quality of my writing seems to get worse. I was thinking it's maybe due to people sticking to what they feel is safer as they go further and further into the month, and are more unsure of what comes next. I also feel like I'm getting somewhat lazy when it comes to synonyms, since I've been using Germans and Nazis a lot to describe the bad guys.
By the way, I was wondering if this is happening to anybody else, but it seems that as the month goes on, the quality of my writing seems to get worse. I was thinking it's maybe due to people sticking to what they feel is safer as they go further and further into the month, and are more unsure of what comes next. I also feel like I'm getting somewhat lazy when it comes to synonyms, since I've been using Germans and Nazis a lot to describe the bad guys.
My goodness, some of you are at 40k already!!!
Forgive any mistakes or weird double-spacing, I had to paragraph separate weird or it looked like a mess in the quote. And I haven't super proofread so I might have double of's or something.The Point McCreary cemetery was not, at first blush, a scary place. Tall, arching iron gates in the center of a six-foot fence of thick bars, pointy on top like spears. Henry imagined that during the summertime, it would be a pretty, secluded spot, but in the snow it looked like a monstrous garden of stone, the flowers carved with names and dates and memories. They jutted from the blanket of white, most of them plain, but there was a couple tall decorative gravestones with angels on them, faces raised to the sky, covered in a light dusting of snow.
At the back of the graveyard, there were a couple buildings, one on either side. The one on the right was flat on top and appeared to just be a shed, but the one on the left was larger, with a steeply sloping roof and it was flanked by frozen angels.
They got out of the car and each closed their door quietly without thinking about it, as though not to awaken anything. They all exchanged glances over the roof of the tiny rental and traded nervous smiles. This was a terrible idea, Henry thought, the latest link in a chain of terrible ideas that began with his decision to come here and ended, most likely, with disaster. He steeled himself, pulled up his jacket against the wind, and headed up the sloping hill to the gates.
They were chained and padlocked, but the chain was rusty and the lock was old. He nodded at it, and Mark stepped up to it. He hefted the sledgehammer, tightened his grip on it, wood handle firmly in his thick gloves.
One swift downward motion. One clang as metal met metal. One soft, nearly inaudible thump as the lock hit the snow, followed by another as the chain followed suit.
One more round of glances.
Henry pushed open the left-hand gate, struggling slightly to push it past the thick snow, the hinges creaking as they worked. He stepped through and into the cemetery, resisting the urge to look back and make sure his group had followed. Mark and Louise exchanged glances, then followed him single-file, subconsciously placing their boots in the indentations he had left behind.
Here guys, have a snippet. Never posted an excerpt the other years, but fifth time's the charm, right?
Always weird to me that people write out of order. I mean, it makes sense and is probably what almost everyone does, but I just write start to finish for roughly 99% of it unless I just think of a good scene. It's probably foolish to do it this way.
Wait, people do that?
3k a day...I should start doing that.I set a minimum goal of 3k words a day. Writing on my TV, full screen, using Focus Writer. I average between 2-3 hours a day and that's with messing around, checking my phone, twitch, neogaf, reddit, etc. The breaks have been really helpful, I know that people say focus, but if I take a break and see something it can give me an idea or two. Only bad thing is it's a different keyboard I write with.
now I can't type on thjis keypbard lol <- how I just typed that and most of this post.
Woke up this morning, realised I'd been using the wrong viewpoint character. For 53 thousand words.
It's okay though. I hate writing, but I love rewriting so it's all good. Going to push on through to the end of the first draft before I do anything about it though.
Could you explain what you mean by that? You meant it to be third person but it's first person? Or one of the characters you intended to be the primary character is in fact secondary?
The story is essentially about the relationship between a mother and her daughter, and at the moment it's been told entirely from the daughter's point of view, in the first person. The way the plot has developed means that viewpoint now feels limiting.
WC: 29305
Gonna have to stick to writing this down physically and retyping things now, since I'm not gonna have consistent computer access for some time :/
Sometimes writing things out on pen and paper is fun though... but I'm wincing just thinking about how you're gonna check that word count.