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About silverroseLocation: Pittsburgh, Pa Home Region: Age:21 Favorite novels: Vampire Chronicles, All Seven Harry Potter books, the Odd Thomas series Favorite writers: Ann Rice, J,k. Rowling, Dean Koontz Favorite music: H.I.M., Classical, Belly Dancing music, latino music, anything that's got a good beat. Non-noveling interests: drawing, painting, reading, watching family guy, designing, buying and wearing costumes. |
Joined: novembre 1, 2007 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 0 NaNoWriMo buddies: 1
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Synopsis: Cloudy, Rainy Tales (working title)
I haven't a clue where this is going but its based off some prose I wrote earlier last month. I'm excited to be doing nanowrimo again and even more excited that I'm doing something potentially spooky.
For some reason the main character seems to be forming into an adopted Asian girl... young, woman... where do my muses get this stuff? Haha.
11/8: three-freakin-thousand words! I am so happy to have accomplished even this! Especially since for a moment there I wanted to trash this thing at one thousand... Haha blame the muses. Needless to say with the help and support of friends I have progressed and am somewhat pleased with my story though I fear it rambles...
11/10: muahahahaha spookiness ensues. I'll have to start posting some of the creepier parts of the novel but needless to say it is a blast tieing in myth, spooky stuff and loads of other things to make people wonder what's a hint and what's just filler; what's relevant and when their just reading into it way too much. ^-^ I like making my readers think.
Excerpt: Cloudy, Rainy Tales (working title)
As it turned out the pilot light was out. That meant getting her robe on, stalking barefooted down a cold hall, down cold stairs and into a cold utility room to light it again. Then going back upstairs, letting the water run for five minutes and then, finally getting in the tub to relax. Thankfully there was nothing that impeded her goal, or else she might’ve gone for the baseball bat in the closet and become momentarily violent. No, she’d probably just bitch for a while, that usually made her feel better.
So did this hot water.
Nearly boiling, steamy, hot water and a quiet house to bathe in. Ok, so the house was always quiet but she wasn’t complaining any. It felt nice to close her eyes and feel the contents of her nasal passages drain swiftly, clearing her head and relieving her migraine…
She bit her tongue rather than let out a yelp of surprise. Actually, she bit her tongue in the process of going to systematically cry out from instinct. She wiped the foggy, weariness from her eyes and coughed a few times, then re-evaluated the room. Ok, maybe she just had a fever-
Because she could have sworn she’d seen her mother in the mirror, sworn she’d seen eyes staring at her from all sides and -sworn- that she’d seen the intense, dark eyes and a face so close to her’s, attached to a body crouched down so close she could swear she felt heat. She dunked her head under the water for good measure and when her eyes cleared and ears emptied, so was the room. She was alone and probably always had been. Maybe she was stressed, or something.
She got out of the tub, dried off, dressed and retreated to the sanctity of the kitchen and some sobering hot tea. The water wasn’t even cold yet but she wasn’t really thinking of that at all. How could she? After all- she’d seen: strange eyes watching, her mother, his eyes, how could she have seen her mother? Those eyes… She couldn’t get over those eyes, and that they were, attached to a face; to a body that was, within certain reach. Hot tea, that would clear her head. Right?
Maybe she needed laid.
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