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About B.Location: here and there Age:21 Favorite music: For the one I am working on as we speak: lots of classical pieces, gothic renaissance classics, jrock, symphonic metal. Non-noveling interests: Drinking coffee. No, seriously. |
Joined: September 22, 2009 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 4 NaNoWriMo buddies: 0
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Brief Author Bio: Was born in Winter. |
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Synopsis:
Absolutely no clue.
Might happen to be a contemporary gothic novel (yes, I am on a quest to invent a new genre! A woman on a mission indeed!) might happen to turn into rants about life, color, music and other things,
Poke around and we-ll see where this leads to. I have no clue what I-m writing, thus making it more interesting for all of us.
I think.
Excerpt:
*Are you sure you feel alright? Maybe we should get some medicines.*
She got up from the bed, the blood red cloak that was wrapped around her spreading like wings over the sheets, her arm resting on her cane, with that low sound its metal-tipped end made as it hit the wooden floor. She threw him a glance as she was rising:
*In the older days, when you were sick, they made you bleed.*
*Would....that be a suggestion?*
*No, I am just trying to inspire fear in you enough as to stop treating me as a child whenever I seem a bit ill.*
B.'s Writing Buddies
