It is day two of this year’s NaNo.
My goal is for 60,000 as opposed to the usual 50,000. It will be a fantasy story.
Two days before NaNo started, I was trolling around the forums (in my day, trolling meant just rambling thru something, seeing what there was to see. I continue to use it in this way while conscious of its current meaning) when I came across a posting about bullet journals.
If you haven’t heard of bullet journals, they are self made versions of store bought journals, personalized to your needs instead of you trying to fit into the proscribed formula. You decide how much room is allocated to each section and can gussy it up as you see fit.
While reading thru the posting, one Wrimo stated how they were going to use their bullet journal to track their Harry Potter word crawl. This lead to another discovery.
Word crawls are devices used to help you grow your word count. Usually in story form, you must meet mini word counts based on the results of timed word sprints, choices made, and randon acts. Here is the link to its page on the NaNo wikipage.
So I am trying out both those methods this year. We shall see how things progress and how long they shall be in use.
My first attempt at Chuck Wendig’s weekly challenge. A story in five sentences.
The killer walked into the room and looked at all his options.
Someone would die tonight, and every person there knew it.
Bribes and pleas were shouted at him as the minute hand made it’s sweep.
They saw in his eyes when the decision was made and fell silent.
His laughter rang in their ears, til it was drowned out by the explosion.
A real two of a kind, those two.
Meant to be. Everyone always said they would last til death did them part.
And they did. Side by side right up to the end.
Not sure we should’ve buried them together. What with no one sure yet which was the murder and which the suicide.
It was most talked about file in the building.
Everybody claimed to know what was in it. Who it would hurt most when it went public.
That was the one thing they agreed on. That it would go public and blow the lid off of everything.
I just ignored all the talk. I knew I had nothing to worry about. Cause I did know what was it in. Hell, I had wrote it.
And they were right. It was going to bring a lot of people down.
Unless they accepted my offer.
Just a raggedy old thing.
But if it could talk, oh the stories it would have.
The people who have slept under it. The nights spent wrapped around others. The times it was clenched in a small hand.
The washing, mendings, and additions.
So much history. Touchable history.
They’re hideous things, if you think about it.
Just something about them has always bothered me. I mean, the general design is kinda meh, but coupled with that color? The worst.
Oh, I am aware my opinion is most likely in the minority. But I don’t care.
You won’t catch me dead in one.
I’ve never seen one before, have you?
I mean, I’ve heard them described. Who hasn’t really. But actually seeing one, huh, really different.
And not where I would ever think of seeing one. I mean, everyone comes here. It could have been anyone besides us who saw it. Anyone.
You think it means something, that it was us who saw it instead of someone else? Like it was supposed to be us?
Meant for us, even?
Yeah, I know we should tell somebody. Just wait a minute. I wanna look some more.
Who do you think he was?